While scribbling all I knew on wet sand,
I would feel my mind drowning in the marshy land,
so I did wash every letter away with my tears,
and left no room for clingy fears.

I was hoping after all these years in exile
some fears might have fallen down the pile,
a pile of silly things dipped in agony,
I had built to challenge my cacophony.

After a decade my fears are resurfacing,
their wrath is deadlier and blazing,
leaking from bruises I recklessly ignored
and dragging along a shady past I abhorred.

I have a child inside me crying and screaming,
hiding behind doors, when the past comes knocking,
it wishes for the lost luck to retreat
and bring along fables that once skipped it’s heartbeat.

I know the scars I wear, shall stay and glow red,
till the time darkness plays with my head,
forcing it to believe in the beastly visions
that were more like false hallucinations.