On the edge of existence lays a house

A formation of stone, wood and memories.

It floats just outside reality and,

All that we have deemed true.

We all hope that one day we can reach there,

So we can finally be happy.

We never remember that house,

Or what it contains,

As life and maturity sweeps it all away.

We never remember the times we spent,

Those bad and those good,

And in which they shaped us. 

We never remember those we held close,

Or those we pushed away.

All the times are lost,

And all the joy is gone.

One leap to exhaust our humanity.

One word, One moment,

That drowned us in the depths of our minds.

From a TV screen, to a broken heart

The instant exposure to the truth,

Displayed through our hardships.

Holding our warmth,

Within a cold coffin.

Containing the frigid fragility of life.

As I grow older I see times pass,

And doors close.

Our innocence, the key,

The locksmith our hope.

- The key lay shattered, by the biting cold.

As we drift away,

We grow older.

As we die,

We grow colder.

Memories lain, for a distant day.

Only to be forgotten,

Without ever saying goodbye.