The Tunnel
The past was regret.
The future, a promise never seen.
Between them stood a tunnel,
tempting those who wished to rewrite what time had already written.
It offered forgotten smiles,
lost voices,
and dreams buried beneath sorrow.
Yet every step within its silence
asked for a piece of the life still waiting outside.
Time was never its victim…
you were.
Each heartbeat traded
for another chance at yesterday.
Pain may shape us.
Guilt may follow us.
Regret may whisper our names.
But the past is a place to remember,
not a home to return to.
For no tunnel can heal
what acceptance alone must mend.
It can only ask
how much of tomorrow
you are willing to surrender
for a yesterday that will never truly be yours again.
The tunnel was never a gate.
It was a choice.
To lose yourself chasing echoes,
or to carry your scars
and walk toward the light waiting ahead.
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