Somewhere a dried fallen leaf silently weeping
Somewhere a rosebud resplendent in its innocent smile
In this hide and seek of smile and cry
We are tortured history’s witnesses, deaf and blind
In the relentless forward journey of life
It may be better to let go and start anew
Pain and sufferings of those fallen and left behind
Hard will be to erase the pain from our hearts
Memories, written in indelible ink and stored
Tucked away under multiple layers and keys lost
Floating into conscious from subconscious
Searing pain of hopeless hearts
Easier to turn new pages of the books of life
Events and characters of pages already read
Rearing their heads, time to time, will disturb
Prologues gone and history, epilogues to be written
I actually prefer writing epilogues because it’s possible that I can no longer rewrite the prologue. Good one.
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You are absolutely correct.
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