Memories Of The Soul

My life seems filled with a hopeless regret;
from a reality I’d like to deny;
my good decisions; erased with each sunset;
while my bad ones must never die.

Some decisions, I’ve relived many lifetimes;
and still, they refuse to work out;
I wish I could discover the secret lifelines;
revealing what memory’s about.

But consciousness is an unending reel;
winding and unwinding at its discretion;
projecting the sorrows, and guilt, I feel;
a prelude, that presures confession.

My life has become a never ending chasm;
with me, trapped in its valley, below;
my soul, in limbo, like useless protoplasm;
how can guilt, lead me to grow?

I’m alone and depressed, in a vast dominion;
not knowing where to turn, next;
my sense of guilt has skewed my opinion;
and cancelled any pretext.

All memories should be treated the same;
good ones need not be deleted;
however, the bad ones should not remain;
for they are likely repeated.

When all memories are etched in the mind;
they can perform their positive role;
for memories are lessons, strictly defined;
to confirm the growth of the soul.

Monty 4/10/22.