The past is writ in stone,
The present fluid,
The future hazy.
Burn the stone, but the past cannot be erased,
Break it, but the words shall remain,
Bury it, but it shall never decay.
The words written are permanent,
They may seem to fade,
But will come back someday with clarity.
The past cannot be avoided,
Cannot be forgotten,
Cannot be annihilated.
The past is, and shall always be words writ in stone…
We are but the slaves of Time,
Waiting silently for the fall of darkness,
Conquering the last breath on our lips.
The words whispered in the depths of the past,
Echo in these gifts bestowed upon us,
They are but a faint fragrance lost in the wind.
Broken are the words that travel around the world,
Lost are the memories that forged them,
As the sands bury the smiles lingering softly in the air.
The Past still lives on, permanent, unmoved,
Sometimes forgotten, sometimes newly discovered,
Existing always, writ in stone.
False words cannot alter,
That which has already passed,
For the truth prevails above all.
We may strive to hide behind a mask,
Some behind good, others behind evil,
But a mask cannot hide us from ourselves.
We hide from a past out to haunt us,
As if shadows could erase who we are,
Alas, we only obliterate that which could have been.
We regret, we fight, we cower in the darkness,
All in vain, as we choose an enemy undefeated,
For the past is writ in stone.