The Memory of Your Face **

"Agony ripped through me with the memory of his face.."

Every single word that has been tied together in this sentence has portrayed a meaning so true as if it were from the story of my own life. Time continues to tick and tock inside the never ending circle, as if it was trapped, just going and going. Despite the endless times that the arrow will come around and around, your face has not gone further away. It is instilled in my memory, the one clear distinct image upon all the haziness that lingers in my mind. I can still envision the heaviness of those deep and dark brown eyes - down to the smooth exterior layer that outlines the edges of your face. I remember the awkward yet perfectly suited composure of the body that keeps your soul inside. It's unfortunate that a face so familiar and was so comforting is nothing but in a memory.