In the quiet corridors of a fading mind,
Memories, like whispers, are hard to find.
Faces and places blur and intertwine,
In the melancholy dance of time.

Once vivid tales now slip away,
Like sand through fingers, they cannot stay.
The past, a tapestry unwound,
Leaves fragments scattered all around.

Eyes that once sparkled with stories to tell,
Now gaze through a mist, where shadows dwell.
Love and laughter, joy and pain,
Are echoes in a distant, hazy refrain.

Yet in the heart, a spark remains,
A flicker of light through memory’s chains.
Though Alzheimer’s may steal the mind’s view,
The soul remembers, pure and true.