Rebirth

As I rewrite these pieces,

To seal them up and close them,

I realize how dead those words have become.

The past has been laid to rest.

There is no anger or regret,

Only bravery and peace.

The inward beginning anew,

And it is because of you.

The strength to face it all.

The ashamed feeling of feeling what I felt,

Or rejection’s sting of failure.

Never taking credit for my thoughts.

Yet, you are not the one.

You have not forced me to forget.

You have not plagued my mind to force out the demons:

You gave me life to do it myself.

Deception has no power over me.

He holds no bounds in those words

Of either love or anger, or even pity.

The only remnants are the walls around my heart.

The ghostly presence has long been cast out.

A dead figment of my imagination.

Gone quicker than he had arrived.

Just a remembrance of how it was to feel alive.

A daydream can be quite dangerous,

But a clouded persona to say the least.

Empty writings are all that is left and

A mere record of what existed in my thoughts.

Now there enters a dangerous dagger,

Double edged and charming,

Dangerous to say the least.

The muse moves me to the core...

Yet, no four lines give him justice.

My hands do not stop flowing.

Has he cursed me with his presence?

For he has led my heart to write.