Out of the fog of an unknown past
the traveller comes to a pristine shore
excited to start with a slate wiped clean
the mess left behind, in the mist of before
Sun shines down on a brand new morn
A day full of maybe stretches ahead
The traveller dances a starting again
and sings a song of hope instead
The past lurks still in the fog off the shore
You can’t forget me, it calls out with glee
I will be with you until you die
Not so, said the traveller. I will be free.
The traveller takes remorse from the past
for the warp of the fabric that’s woven true
The weft is the joy of a beautiful day
and the hope of a future created anew.