My Lifes Wake

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Literature Text

I have delved into Poetry, and this was my first poem I ever wrote. Since this poem, I have published a book of Poetry. Here is the poem.

As I sit here, my soul spinning in the chaos of my life’s wake. I ponder my actions, the risks, the lies, the hopeless hate.

All of the pain I caused, the horrible heartache. Woe be me and my life’s lament….

I regret so much, and wish I could go back and make so many things right. Deal with this torment. Harsh words spoken out of false hate.

I kept my heart, my soul enclosed, locked behind a dark gate. Preventing me from being the person I should have been.

The father, the son, the man I regretfully allowed to become negated. Instead I so willfully hated.

But with age sometimes comes clarity, the years make me think and allows my conscious to awake.

Woe is me and my deep regret, my past lays over me like thick fog that no wind can abate.

Deep and dark within me, my regret eats at me, and makes my very soul ache.

Raw and bleeding, like salt in a wound. I embrace the pain, I deserve it I think. I cry inside, and for so long accepted it as my fate.

Woe is me, please fate forgive my foolish actions, my dark past that I hate.

I wish so much I could change what once was. I feel like a cancer, an infection on those I love.

I feel like a burden on them, always feeling undeserving of their love, always reminding myself of my soaking self-hate.

Forgiveness is a word I am afraid to embrace, the words are bitter, and painful. I cry inside.

I scream to empty ears, frustration and anger are my comfort.

I learn to love Pain and spite. I point them all at me, I fall down onto my knees. Deep, dark, aching it claws at me. Not wanting to let go of the lament I now face.

Woe is my soul. I scream, my inner demons dance within my anger at my past which I hate.

They mock me, laughing at my regret, gleefully cheering my lament, my pain and my heartache, they whisper in my ear, that it is my fate.

But I breathe deeply and close my eyes. I decide to not allow my past to become my present, I will not believe my own past lies. I refuse to accept any more my own self-hate.

I will not let my dark self-loathing regret infect my life. I sit here and decide it is time to argue with fate. I take a deep breath and I forgive myself and what I once was.

For although my past must always be remembered. A moral compass to be held in my trembling hand. The fog shall be pushed aside from this present that I am.

I shall not worry about forgiveness from others. That is a wish that is fleeting and false. False hope that is to be rinsed off me like thick mud.

My soul will be washed by my own trembling hands. Forgiveness is a dream, a point of light far away. Something that I never thought I could face.

But it is my own will that will prevail. I decide I am done, I will no longer be a slave to the regret, the humiliation of my self-hate.

I will forgive myself and decide to rinse my past from my soul. Allow it to wash off me as if I was in a warm and comforting shower. I do this for me, and I know.

True, honest forgiveness is not given by others. It must come from within, a self-accepted power. I must not let my past, and those demons who dance within to win.

I know all men sin and regret, so it is time I cast off my regret, and self-reflect. For I know I have a good soul, and the good I have done will always outweigh the bad of my past.

So I let my past go, and promise to embrace my life. To look around me and see the good, the beauty of my world and the special thing that is my now, that is my soul.

I forgive you my past. Your brash actions, your harsh words, your anger, hate and more. I cannot take away the things I have done. But I can stop allowing them to weigh upon me.

Heavy, like a wet blanket over my face. I refuse to hide from it. I will do something I always feared to face. I will look forward and love my life. And know that fog although still there will with patience, love and forgiveness.

Will abate…..

My woe, my lament will go away.

And take with it my past heartache.

This is a poem I write one evening, it was my first poem. Since this, I have published a book of poetry called A Thoughtful Whimsy.
© 2020 - 2024 DonSemora
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