Memento Mori Poem Novels & Stories

"But guess she ended up falling in love with you. At least, give her the befitting burial she pleads for." He smiled as he brought out a white paper that was roughly cut. "To love - to heal. Maybe after this day - I may wither. But don't leave my body to rot. For I fear turning into dust. But set me up a flowery caravan. Up the hill or maybe up the hill And set those beautiful incense, fifty in numbers. And light up the caravan while I sleep inside. And let the strong incense whiff be a lasting memory. To love - to heal."

A blanket of thick fog joined the group as it crept up out of nowhere, bringing with it howling wind and shivering skin. "What's that?" Zander saw a concrete structure peeking out of the mist ahead. He focused his vision. "Looks like a gigantic headstone." "That's exactly what it is," Isis agreed. They walked until they came upon the headstone. It seemed pitiful and primitive, yet the creepiest thing about it was the epitaph. It read; ~REMEMBER ME AS YOU PASS BY. AS YOU ARE NOW, SO ONCE WAS I. AS I AM NOW, SO YOU SHALL BE. PREPARE FOR DEATH AND FOLLOW ME.~

"On top of that, her father's scandal will be featured in the papers tomorrow. Enjoy your new life, my queen." I turned off my phone and looked out at the clouds. Everything below felt distant when I was flying 30,000 feet above the ground—especially the memories I was about to forget forever. "Goodbye, Alexander," I murmured. "This time, I'm living for myself."

'Fear, it's in your mind, fight it. Pain, it's in your body, endure it.' DarkVergent Samantha Red's POV Pain A pain that would stop you from uttering a word, moving and anything alive person could do. A pain that killed me and turned me into a living corpse. A pain in my heart that felt like being stabbed a thousand times. A pain in my body that would heal but will leave a deadly nightmare of the past.

--The Nydisian Kingdom, Countryside, Lady Morgan's Manor-- 'The troubles of one's mind and the thoughts within the soul bring forth a long-forgotten pain only to be remembered by those who sow the reward. If only time could tell the fate of one's life, how much time would be saved? Destiny, however, laughs in the face of time, mocking its existence for being nothing but a measure that means nothing compared to its counterpart. However long, wherever it may be, the once-forgotten pain along with destiny will turn back to mock your existence before moving to its next victim.'

“Really? I don’t remember you at all.” “That’s impossible,” she whispered, her eyes trembling as she muttered to herself, dazed and broken. “No, Mr. Wilson must be wrong. You can’t have lost your memory.” Her voice cracked, and she cried until she could barely breathe.

She suspected that he didn't want to live anymore and begged me to visit him, afraid he might do something irreversible. Unable to stand her constant tears, I finally agreed. When I saw Dylan through the glass, I almost didn't recognize him. He repented for a long time, then finally asked if I was willing to wait for him. I shook my head and returned all the money he had given me. As I turned to leave, I said one last thing to him. "Dylan, I've repaid everything I owed you. However, you'll never be able to repay what you owe me in this lifetime."

Then she opens the poetry anthology to the poem. A Reflection By MM de Wet (2015) a reflection of the mirror a trick of the eyes and the body what do you really feel? is that tears of joy or of sadness a emotion can easily change a dependent variable of time breaking the mirror will not fit it you will still feel the same haunted by that image of sadness anger pain or of a good memory of happiness and joy

She asked I suddenly remembered the small poem in the book I have shared with Lea "Think of me, our time might come to an end. In a blink, you might be blind to see me." "I am on the brink of the cliff, can you catch me? I am shrinking, will you see me?" "In a wink, there's only one eye. In a heart, there's only one side" I haven't given attention to it but, it did affect me. Little did I know, it was the end

One of Damon’s favorite theories, Anne recalled, was that the Mourner’s Cradle had been a graveyard. Why had he been so captivated by it? Shouldn’t the Mourner’s Cradle be something more than just a graveyard? Shouldn’t there be something besides this pit of bones and the silence that filled it? She didn’t know. She remembered the camera and reached into her pockets for it, but was stunned to find it in pieces, destroyed by the fall. Anne paced. She studied the walls, the areas where the ceiling dipped lower and where the higher reaches extended up toward the light of the surface. Below, from among the pit’s many, many bones, a vacant skull grinned up at her.