{"sf1_id":1740642,"sf2_id":"7ej9DVw1","title":"Endless Epilogue","author":"Kyzak","words":91,"posted_at":"2021-07-15T18:57:00.000Z","tags":["Poem","Poetry"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1740642-endless-epilogue","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/7ej9DVw1","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/4c/fc/4cfc0185-0ae7-47f1-b2da-9b07cc62a249","description":"In its memory.","content":"Every day is its own story;  \nor at least, that's what they've told me.  \nYet by stories lived, when you turn  \nthe page, you find yet another  \nline: this, an endless epilogue.  \n  \nIt doesn't seem to matter that  \nthe eulogies and epitaphs  \nare over with, so say the dawn:  \n\"My story ended when you went  \nso far away, forever gone.\"  \n  \nBut should the day come, and for that,  \nI persist; that this wound closes  \nI'll treasure the scar left behind  \nSomething to remember you by  \nAs I live new stories again.  \n  \n\n"}