Memories Beyond the Door
As an ordinary man I have ordinary needs
and doubts, laments and dreads.
I have strong knowledge of right from wrong
but little stomach for the fight.
And so I know too well of memories that lurk
beyond a door too easily opened.
Memories I would simply shun,
had I the strength of mind to think me guiltless.
But spectres sometimes haunt my waking hours
and I must fend them off like nightmare’s terrors.
Costs of deeds that were not done,
or best were left undone,
of loves lost or scorned,
words said and silences kept,
sights seen but turned from,
and wrongs witnessed and left not hindered.
Such memories bar the sanctuary of sleep,
their talons from my conscience claw bloodied raw regrets
and I wish other men to be as weak as me,
and know there is no god.
3rd of May 2013
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