A Memory Gate

Dampened footsteps make the leaps,

It is not just a path, they are memories.

And abridged are the strokes,

The speechless galleries.

The intricate weave,

Rolling briskly on the reeve.

Collection of fibrous, sparkling heap,

Enclosing a deep breath of incident in seep.

The delicate pieces of glory,

Decorate the mind to be flory.

Remembrances engraved with stories,

And written in the mightiest ink of dories.

That is the miracle,

Chosen experiences and lyrical.

Only the sounds are heard inside,

But it echoes in the falling heartful tide.

The ink that would never perish,

To face death, a longing cherish.

Nothing can embody the spell,

As it captured the essence & the fervour itself.