The memory of pain,
is a sharp blade,
cutting the skin
Not too much blood,
enough to expose the nerves
The naked nerves kiss the air;
and writhe in deadly agony
The memory of pain,
is walking laboriously,
on the dark road of regret
Each step, a burdensome effort,
unwilling to toil ahead
The tired feet drag along;
raising the dust clouds of guilt
The memory of pain,
is smelling deeply,
the stinging smell of anguish
Each breath burns the lungs,
each breath scalds the heart
But the body breathes on;
the soul the eternal victim
The memory of pain,
is an unwanted stench,
assaulting the senses
Each fume, a poisonous exposure,
each fume, a torturous encounter
But the smell keeps on assaulting;
the conscience welcomes it
The memory of pain,
is what keeps some alive;
and aware of life
Each day, a call for salvation,
each day, expecting damnation
The soul’ barely able to survive;
while understanding thrives
“The memory of pain,
is what keeps some alive;
and aware of life
Each day, a call for salvation,
each day, expecting damnation
The soul’ barely able to survive;
while understanding thrives”
Right on the money..!!
And in the aftermath… indeed…
it is a laborious walk of regret…
An unwilling burdensome effort,
to really want to go anywhere…
or want anything anymore…
Aah the guilt… Off letting it get to this…
Tired is the soul…
What does it all even matter anymore…
Now… Here… Today… Tomorrow…
Who cares…
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Lol! Very pertinent my dear friend
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way with words. Indeed!
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Thank you and interestingly the words speak of what I experience
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you have gift. thanks for gifting everyone else
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Thanks Dear…
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Outstanding , though full of guilt, pain and regret.
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Thank you
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