No Regrets
I’d tried to keep my mind off the ponder over these things… yet each passing moment treated me with the horror of the next… thoughts filled with a remembrance of deeds past. Deeds that for a while looked locked away in the past, gone and over with.
I stopped then, and since these deeds were seemingly done in the cover of night, I would tell not of them and put on a pretense as though they never even had a conception.
Now they taunt me from the same past, like a dead man resurrected, embodied with fear and the very reflection of myself in my past secrets. Paled with the imminent reveal of my ill transactions, in my quivering mind I could piece up a quote I read in time past:
“Intense is the agony when the eye begins to see,
when ear begins to hear,
when the heart begins to throb,
when the soul feels its flesh and the flesh feels its chains.”
if only this cup could pass me by somehow my soul cried, but no one answered.
I see clearly the wreck of who I am now truly in the things I’d done. Ideals that I’d sworn never to break even in my lowest self — now they lay before me shattered with some godless impunity, and a thousand tyrannies I’d broken along the way.
My heart throbbed hard, almost out of its breath; how could I have done all these. My mind now is searching for a consolation, maybe all that wasn’t my fault entirely, there are surely more players in this game, it couldn’t just be me alone… I had myself pace my living space endlessly as my nerves could only spike.
then i said this: maybe a change of environment will relieve me of the burden of thoughts; maybe solitude? Maybe a slap of indulging media content laced with acted emotions; maybe a book to read; the list only grew after trying the latter.
In my mental struggle I came to this place… this place I stand to face justice, this place I learnt thus that we make and create our realities, this place taught the real meaning of truth.
That realities made in our pasts certainly will become building blocks for creating the realities of this present, and this present wields itself into a past in a coming future. For the blocks — be them bad or good — you already have, only that you may reshape them; chisel out the parts that be unsuitable.
The consequences of the things I’d done surely will I face, yet one realizes regret more of a wrong committed when it comes under the scrutinizing light of what is right.
So now that these things I’d kept locked in the closet hoping no one comes knocking have been spilled, I only accept my fall, and you should too.
Though not a justification, now am better than then — to not only see the ills I’d done but to know how the nature of sin kept me in its chains for all this while.
In my disdain, I will let my scars ever remind me never to get hurt again…