Sing the song

Running through my head are the images of things long gone, like an old album, static, white noise so are the images. Not entirely clear, distorted with time, the passage of life no longer lived.

Songs are the instument of memories. Some say that memories are linked to smell, in my life this has become true, as well as music. Music has the tendancy to reach deep in my soul, wring out the momories, cleanse my soul.

Songs are something to cherish, something to take in your hand, dance the long dance that becomes one with songs.

How does one change the song tied to memories? or perhaps change the smell tied to memories?
You cannot!
Never will you be able to associate those smells or songs to something else.

Death will be the only way to change what was, what is.

How does one accept the knowledge that death is near? Perhaps they have, perhaps the fear changed into a different song of sorts. The fear of what happens after death.

Dance into the darkness, fear not the memories, rejoice in the ones that make you smile.
Life is what you make of it, or so I am told. Sing the song that is in your heart.