I awoke this morning
And wished it had been all a dream
The horrific nightmare which unfolded
Twisted faces fraught with pain
Decisions made and regretted
Alas it was fact it was history
Those events set in memory
Could not be changed nor forgotten
How cold and cruel the wheels
Of life when set in motion
A series of tragedies occurred
And all by my own doing
My world wept and died
And those I loved, still love
Wept and wondered why
And i have no answer
No rhyme or reason
Just this regret
And the wish for it to be
Nothing but a dream
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You have defined regret in this well written poem. I would say you nailed it to the wall except regrets are seldom pinned down- -they follow us like those Hounds of Heaven which I thought should be called the Hounds of Hell. We cannot change the things we have done, hopefully some day we can forgive ourselves instead. A remarkable journey of the soul here, Matthew.
Thank you I am on a path towards forgiving myself. I like the hounds line and have used similar before using Winston Churchill's reference for depression being the black dog