Looking for the Unborn

Why dwell on the past when the future guarantees your self-worth

Why live on moments that are not different than death

It’s happened and it’s gone

It’s forever away

and nothing more than a figment

or a nightmare

The reason is, you are never alone.

Those who are like you are hiding just the same

Living in the past

of shackles and thorns, bleeding away

distraught and cold

they hope to find the sunshine

in something already rotting

They dig to see if there may be something left,

unborn.

A plea that it may regain the light and bud into a new life

But everyone knows, the past is like the afterlife.

Just death and memories

Instead search for respite, come out of your graves

begin your quest for inner peace

there’s no telling what fortunes lie ahead

except that you are in control of the piece of flesh in your chest

that creates the line between you and your past

 

 

 

 

 

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