To the humble spirit of my heart,
countless passages of lamented hurt,
shine above the past to make a new start,
clear the vessels and make a fresh spurt,

Shadows in the mind often linger,
decadent worries of the past,
still you show that accusatory finger,
spectre of jealousies always cast,

Mind and feelings twisted in turmoil,
serenity and peace need to abound,
dragging the past and excuses for your foil,
having to bury myself so as not to be found,

One cannot control what you cannot see,
I have no ill feelings of what has gone,
still the shadows of past pester me,
regrets a few but mostly have none,

Is ones soul crushed and deflated,
pounded by bitterness left to despair,
only my demise would make you elated,
but the spirit of my heart has given me air.