“Memories”

A walk down the memory lane
where the dead are alive,
where happiness ruled.

Fleeting events
haunting like
birds of prey
tugging at the edge of sanity.
Scenes which were best left dead,
reeling in rolls and rolls,
again and again…

Dead seven sins
Resurrected in the flowery lane, wait, no
in the breathing world.

Burning scenes
of sloth
of gluttony
of pride
of greed
of envy
of lust
of wrath
*burning, burning.
Waves of guilt and shame
crash into us
again, again.
Never-ending hell.
Where’s tranquility?
Ghost of the past
laid down to rest?

* or
burning, burning
burning, scorching, or
scorching, burning?
Hot? Pain?
Guilt? Shame?
Who cares?

Ghost of past
laid down to rest?
Who cares?