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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword
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Boaz

To make up for my mistake in the other room.... Remembrance

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As I walk along the hallowed halls,

I look upon the names who's friendship calls.

 

I see their portraits faded grey,

of friend's who's memories have begun to fray.

 

But as a approach and touch the name etched in the stone,

the painting above radiates the light it once shone.

 

I swear I can hear my name still spoken,

and my eyes grow moist at this token.

 

Memories and names may sometimes fade,

but still they are strong inside the man they made.

 

 

 

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