Set the Night Singing #2.29
Updated: Oct 14
The past lies still beneath her sod,
and yet she finds no peace in sleep.
The fails, the wins, the pain I've caused
in my wake, ride; in my mind, keep.
Regret, arrives, his lash in hand –
no rest I reach, foul thoughts intrude –
nightmarish visions, aches for change,
he stirs as o'er my blood he broods.
Past, wisdom-laden, come to aid
and light my halls, my parapet.
The Teacher Past speaks on and on,
I listen, love – so dies regret.