Past has become

a land of sorrow,

where memories with thorns

make mind bleed.

Come, say the

memories, touch us

and remember,

touch us and feel the pain.

Images of former happiness

come drifting,

half-sunken hulks

with barnacles of

loss growing on them.

There is no going back,

no rescue, no forgetfulness.

No river Lethe to bring

the bliss of forgetting,

letting the past

sail away on its water.

11.06.-22.06.2013