The Ghost Of My Past Poem by Deduson Brown

My journey has started an excursion of doubt,
It will open the door of my dubious freedom,
Without linking my past, with my future,
Though I know it is not a place I want to end in.

The ghosts of yesterday, appear to warn me of dread,
Yet I am heading to a place, menacing on a crest of a secluded life,
An my past life seems to be millions of years away!

The appalling time presses in, as though it is still alive, hanging to my past,
I can almost sense it,
I can almost feel it pressing on my fragile chest,
And whispering echoing words,
Which haunt me to this time.

The thought of one vital woman,
brings no relief from the tension that inhabits my old heart,
At least some of the pains have passed,
Pains that touched on my fears, that I have never known before,
Hoping that fear will be ended and so will hope!

The journey continues with more doubts than ever,
The doors are wide open,
Revealing disturbances of weirdness

Within I found a strange and lonely life,
Like a sleeping existence waiting to wake up.
I know I should leave at once,
Yet I cannot,
Not as long as I feel my answers which I have been looking for might be found inside.

The darkness,
The isolation,
Corrupted by the dust hidden life,
Walled in by the ghosts of my past.
The fears of my uncertain present are all waiting for an answer.

Where shall I search for the truth?
Where can I wait for hope to appear?

The past is drifting through dark corridors of the unknown,
Settling in corners of fear,
Waiting for my mind to uncover more than the known truth,
Which I thought I knew.

The devils of my unsettled time are here,
Where they found their place in the isolated area of my heart.

The answers of the future have not been found yet,
The existence of hope is still in doubt;
And since I have entered through the doors of life,
I became part of its strangeness,
A peculiarity which seems to reach out and touch my soul.

The past is my prison,
I have been too long confined!

I should not be afraid of the present,
Neither should I be fearful of the future,
Yet, both carry a filthy stench of fear,
Which transfers through my veins,
And mingles with my blood seeping into my heart,
Interrupting the smooth flow of its beating.

My present is situated on an isolated peak,
The secrets of the past have not opened completely yet,
But since I have journeyed this far I must wait,
Even though it is a most weird time for me.

A cold sweat started to attack my body,
An onslaught with a force of a thousand devils;
There is no life beyond,
Seemingly only sadness and dejection,
Not to mention the terrible seclusion of trepidation.

From the moment I slipped through from my mother's womb,
I have been surrounded by tension and conflicts,
Everything seems to be echoing the ghosts of the Past I knew,
Ghosts which have a tight grip on my present.
The connection between then and now is very real,
Somehow I have to discover what it is.

The dark themes of the present are binding me to the past,
I wish to forget,
And soon!
I have realized, I think, nothing seems to help me!


The dark ambiance of my life dominates,
It is part of an uneasy world which I have built around me,
Through it,
I listen to its rumours.
I shudder to approach it,
The first tragedy came upon me,
A death,
He was taken away,
The man I have protected since I was merely eight years old,
My father!
While the hidden impacts of the past,
Suddenly move closer and closer.
There was no sound,
Except of the sobbing, by us the siblings;
The crying of the guilty one
Gazing into my eyes for forgiveness.
That strangeness that surrounded me is still haunting me now!

The past is not a mystery to me,
The future is;
It is bound to the childhood years I lived,
The compelling tension I endured were endless,
So much had happened in five measly years,
Especially to face the woman who loved me,
And the man who abused me for a long long time!

The woman, who never left my thoughts;
A mother who had been shocked,
Knowing well that her secret,
Though safe With me still haunted my mind.
A mother who was concerned and torn,
For the one person she loved most.
Me!

The Man,
Ten years my senior,
A cunning paedophile,
Who lured me into the dirty world of sexual abuse.
How could I have faced him for all those years?
Knowing what damage he had done to me?

The road I took those days was steep and winding,
It twisted and turned like the hidden secrets I kept for so long,
Which led me to ruin my teenage life
And hurt all the people who loved me most.