Moments parted from one another, a distance that grows with the ever passing moments of time. The anxiety of separation as the time between past and present grows ever wider. Joy and sorrow, happiness and pain, celebration and defeat, all those experiences live on in the remnant of memory. Lost but for the thread that binds them to the past, a thread growing ever longer, ever tighter, under the constant threat of snapping as the distance between becomes too great.
Experiences bound by the will of existence, a continual effort at proving that such a history once existed. And as the mind slips and remembering fades, the thread of separation tenses between time. Until the thread snaps and memories cease. Such are the ties between past and present. A precarious history strained and tested as moments retreat into shadow.
As the years accumulate, remembering grows harder and more burdensome. Holding on to what was lest it be lost forever. Driven by the desire to recollect, the final appearance of the past being memory itself. Time groans at our efforts at holding on, at the strength required to keep the past alive. Motivated by the fear of forgetting, we grip the threads of the past with all our strength until it finally breaks.
The past, tightly wound, snaps across the chasm of time, broken beyond mending. Who now will remember the past? Who will carry on what we vowed to never forget? The past retreats, hurrying back into the oblivion it once inhabited. Moments in time lost forevermore. Every dream, every joy, every care is finally out of reach.
Is it foolish to believe we can overcome the distance between past and present? Does every memory cruelly end in forgetting and nothingness? Oh for the memory that persists beyond remembering! A memory birthed eternally, which persists beyond time. A memory of hope that overcomes the separation of time.