memory, two-faced bitch
where once in gold is written pitch
where once was bad now is some longing
in times uncertain no memory's certain.
outside my door is well-known ground,
so well known from a furtive look
I know the rules and nature that I ride,
but in this pit of rue I suffer the quagmire,
my eternal torment is memory's desire.
			       s.r.p.
[-.-.-][.(.).]