Marching through thickest tangles of life's insistent webs of remorse.
Hacking away at them in later years of life, becomes a chore more obsessed than any time before in life.
Timely reminders that we are growing older with every moment, and are opening up to death's doors.
Not wanting to go through them filled with bushels of regrets to bog us down.
Taking care to ask forgiveness and give acceptance to all those whose lives they've touched with malice, insincerity and lies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem