Thursday, May 24, 2012


A hundred swords impaled my heart
They left no wound in my chest
There werent red drenched in the carpet
Not a drop of blood tainted the floor
But the pain stabbed me with no mercy
The tender tissue torn apart by ache

Cold laws of irreversibility
Wrong choices made permanent
Regret as the final punishment

Beyond recall we look back
A petrified look of grief
Watch the sequential events
That led to our demise
Mourn who we were
Before the choices were made

We bemoan the loss of ourselves
The fracture in time
A one-way-looking glass
Divides the awareness of anticlimax
From the nescience of remorse

We die and live again as something else
With no chance of saying good-bye to our former-self
With no chance of warning about the errors he's about to make

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