A Poem Inspired by Bastille, Inspired by Edmund Spenser

Time continually erases you.
There are fewer poems,
Fewer stories,
Fewer tears.

But there are still poems remaining.
Still words that mark you down.
I wrote you with my eyes,
And kept the ink filled pages.

Because I wrote you down.
Copied your movements into metaphors,
Your words into sonnets.
You will live forever.