Through The Past

By Anuvindan T

He thought perhaps the shackles were the cause

The reason the whirlwind inside him went on without pause

But now free of binds and anchors, he’s started walking on

He finds the yearning of his mind is but a double edged sword

For each step taken, the whispers echoes

Not enough, You could’ve taken one more

For each pause he makes, each rest, each night

The pavement seems to stretch far with all its might

Each moment of doubt stings as pangs of regret

And doubts, they grow from the crimson blood that’s spilt

Each mirror is an insult, a reveal of the truth

One that’s hard to accept and even harder to change

Each praise feels like a lie, born to please without core

And each mistake irremissible, carelessness but an excuse

Each second taken to adjust a loss, and each plan waned is a waste

But he carries on still, for a battle unfought hurts more than a lose

By Anuvindan T