In the darkness I hear the echoes of the past. There are voices of laughter, joy, pain, cries for help. I try to seek them out, but no avail cannot find them, for they are echoes of the past.
I once could hear the children growing up, and now there is silence. I question how much of the past can be fixed for the better future.
Here in the present is where live. There is no changing the past. For in the darkness it gives me light. Everything is cloudy. Time to wipe away the grim and the pain to give me a brighter future.
Though in the darkness I do not fear the future. The future is a blank slate. It is unwritten and moldable.
