nescio

The past is a chapter already written
Long published and well known
But I still keep going back with a revising pen
Hoping to change it somehow

I can’t stand to have a single person hate me
To the point where I will endanger myself
Building bridges long burned for good reasons
I suppose that will be my cause of death

What a wonderful and yet horrific ending that would be
Not death by an impassioned thief in the dead of night
But by a former friend, an ally, a purveyor of secrets
Bleeding into the streets with the same color I hold in my hand

I suppose that if there was a higher power
They’d probably want to edit me out
But the pen is mightier than the sword
And the only crusade I pursue in
Is the crusade to a better future for myself and those I love

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