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.

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