Adventures in Literary Esoterica

The Quintessence of Memory

I almost recall my reason for existing,
amidst the daily anxieties and lifelong traumas,
hibernating in the recesses of long term storage.

There were voices once.
They carried me, whispering on the breeze,
a remembrance of erstwhile joys and prior miseries.

Now I recede backward through consciousness,
losing my voice, and eventually my identity,
until even history loosens its grip.

I linger as smoke in the air,
aching for someone to remember.

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Line Count: 11

Form: Free Verse

Prompt: The thing that almost remembered what it came here to do.

Written for: "PromptMaster !"