100 Days of Blogging, Personal / Interests

Regret and Remorse

In the hand that feels,

And the heart that sees,

There is a thought that lingers.

The ripples created at the middle

Always reach the shore,

Sometimes above, sometimes below

 

The cruel dreams that shatter

Life’s moments worth living

Those that keep your head above clouds

While your feet tread on water

In search of land, terra firma

 

For the tantalising pull of what

Could have been, but never would

Is much better than the mundane

Things that are, would always be.

Perhaps remorse is love, for in its last act

All it wishes for is to be known,

A heart seeks forgiveness, the

Yearning to be close.

The weary souls see above

 

And at that twilight, lies the darkness

The cusp, an oasis of dreams.

Regret, they’d say, is more moving

And its wily cousin, more taxing.

In a bond strengthened by love,

What is real, if not the dream?

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