Thursday, December 30, 2004

A Cupboard full of Skeletons

In periods of peace, when everything seems mundane,
My trepidations loom large, thoughts I cannot contain;
These that disturb my calm, have long been my friends,
Burdening my mind with guilt, but never giving me a chance to make amends;
Breathing life into an uncomfortable past,
One that cannot coexist with a beautiful present,
Like creatures with ugly heads, that threaten to enter my heaven,
Those that should not be fought, but should only be buried,
Thoughts that never leave me, fears that keep me worried.

Life gives a second chance, but past does not;
New memories will never condemn the old ghosts to rot;
Those skeletons in the cupboard cannot be put away,
For they will certainly return to haunt another day,
Robs every chance of a guiltless future,
Kills with insufferable torment,
Dashing every small joy, those ugly creatures that never relent;
Till the day when there is no beautiful present, consumed by an everlasting past,
The day when life gives way, and deliverance comes atlast.


* Another Personal Expression. Not a personal experience.

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