To Which Image Should We Cling-Whispers of Regret

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ah, it's my clinging to the image of who I might have been that distracts and torments me!” Fernando Pessoa Regret, a silent symphony, plays within you, Notes of remorse, haunting, relentless sway. You seek forgiveness, yet the chords begin anew. The echo louder, a burden unspent, weigh Melodies of might-have-been, soft and sharp, Clashing in your heart, an eternal fray. Forgotten harmonies, in minor, warp, Entwining past deeds with the strings of strife, Each note's ghostly finger, your soul to carp. The pensive dance of what-ifs cuts like a knife, A twilight of tunes, dusk's mournful choir, Lament of time's lost, the cost of your life. Yet, within dissonance, hope may inspire, New refrains rise from the depths of your remorse, Harmony is found as you reach higher. From silent regret, you chart a new course, The symphony softens, your mind's concert clears, In the quiet, you find a gentle force. Unchecked, the music of the heart appears, Regret's symphony, a lesson, not a chain, A prelude to peace composed by your tears!