Haunted Pasts

Does one need to feel the prick of fate

For them to hurt and begin to bleed

Not a one expects to be allowed through the golden gate

Doing the things that bore the greatest of need

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Be not weary of troubles everlasting touch

Bravely cruise into the embers then the fires

Let not the good refuse to do the hardest too much

And leave behind a world of wicked and liars

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Were not for those willing to handle the dark

The rest could not have slumbered in peace

To have truly gone into the firey park

Giving the rest of the world a sweet release

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Bringing of the missing pieces to such a place

Bewildering those with such trembling doubts

Worth it, it was, to see the relief upon their face

For they wouldn't hear the misery of the vanquished's shouts

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But make not a place of peace and escape

Failing to find a source of such relief

In your mind things repeat on a recorded tape

Succumbing to guilt becoming your only belief

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Crossing lines was special for those who would dare

Leaving room for better things not the first daily task

Stepping into too many piles of grief that was not fair

Wearing the same stoically brave and unyielding mask

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But alas, it comes from even the most brave of souls

The ticking grows louder as it nears

Even the heroes must pay the tolls

As the ticking grows deafening between their ears

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Where do you run

Where do you hide

For it isn't the beast that has begun

This darkness follows you from the inside

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It all comes around

Each and every turn

As you hear the wicked sound

Of the vanquished as they burn