Live I not under the shadowed echoes of the past.
Dark persistent memories of a long forgotten land
with searching petulant fingers that would yet take hold my hand
and punctuate each sentence with a sigh.
Think I not on them, live I not for them.
This battle hard fought and barely won is mine
and I will fight on with a soft persistent smile
speaking not of pain, hurt and sorrow, but of losses gains,
though the loss be ever hurtful and the pain a mindful drain.
The sorrows rolling silent, ever deep in a salt reservoir of tears
seeking ever to be unburdened, but more burdened by passing years.
The long past sting of unfeeling hand and sore tormented mind
in dark persistent memories of a longforgotten land.
Live I not under these shadows, though their echoes long resound
as I walk forever stumbling on rocky middle ground
and punctuate each sentence with a sigh.