One decision makes a consequence.
An immovable choice set in the stones of time.
Repercussions decided, results of the decision.
But these are unknown to the decider who stands
damned before the irrelevance of right and wrong.
Crucified by the dictates of conscience, and
regret and loss, flowing like water and blood,
Both mingling, bittersweet, like a pomegranate.
Capturing a feeling that swells and resonates,
Poignant, deepening with age and years;
Time wasted away by seeking past's atonement
And searching for future's tender mercies.
A heart pleading with the sands of time to retreat,
And begin again once more, anew.
Before that one decision, before all decisions.
Long before hurt and ache become embroided,
Sharply etched into that human soul.
But time is deaf and dumb and blind.
It heeds not to any plea, but moves onward continually,
Consuming and eroding life like wild hell fire.
Time, always burning down the paths of destiny.
