In a dusty, forgotten, drifting room
Piano keys move by themselves
In the mirror-world she plays
Stroking delicate, milk-pale hands
Over chords seen through a fog

In a faded armchair an indentation sits
Where he watches, listens, mourning
Through a mirror crazed and cracked
with silvery spider web lines
The shadows of his long dead past

On a shadow filled mantelpiece
Over a fireplace that never now sees flame
The rustle of a burning log settling
Carries with her music and scent
Down the labyrinth of a memory fading

Who were the old couple in that photograph?
He can’t remember either face nor place
Only her lilting voice holds him, enthralling
with the hope of eternal youth
As he shambles out to lost streets, searching.

The streets were there, in his memory
But no more a pedestrian way
As buses and cars speed along their route
Flashing bright lights, blaring horns
Uncaring of a frail and lonely form

A song is haunting a lifeless room
As sunset closes on the world
Whispers from beyond the open door
Of grief, loss and memories disappeared
Til only the husk of humanity remained