In a dim room lined with reflection,
I wait,
Glimpses of the haunts,
flashes of affections,
always uncertain,
undoubtedly late.
Assurances are relished,
in this tomb of doom,
Past relics embellished,
shined again and again.
Penitence for me,
Fearing time served,
will eternally loom.
Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 11:23 AM UTC
In a dim room lined with reflection,
I wait,
Glimpses of the haunts,
flashes of affections,
always uncertain,
undoubtedly late.
Assurances are relished,
in this tomb of doom,
Past relics embellished,
shined again and again.
Penitence for me,
Fearing time served,
will eternally loom.
Sometimes we are caught up in the moments of our past. So much so, that we fear our future. I wrote this 04/10/2011, and what I do know, is that I am not in this tomb any longer. We can always change it.
©cmg
