Grasp of the Past

Within the depths of one's weary soul,

A haunting specter takes its toll,

A force relentless, unseen, and vast,

That grips the heart, the memories amassed.

Oh, it is not of mortal form or face,

But the past, that harbinger of grace,

It lingers in shadows, an ominous shade,

Dragged from the depths where it was once laid.

Leaving one longing for eternal sleep.

Yet, in its grasp, a bitter solace is found,

For the past, a mirror, reflects profound,

Reminding of who one was in days long gone,

Guiding the path toward who one must become.

So, acknowledge its presence, this ghostly guest,

Embrace its lessons, put your heart to the test,

For in facing the past with courage and grace,

You shall find strength to craft a brighter space.

And though it may haunt, with relentless might,

Let it ignite your spirit, fierce and bright,

For in the echoes of what once used to be,

Lies the power to shape the destiny you see.