SOMETIMES WE CLOSE OUR EYES

A whisper said, "Sometimes it is not what you did... but rather what you did not say."

Among the palest shadows, in the lea of certainty,

There water-drips the reason, staining bright reality.

Resurrected were the ghosts, proving graceless are the dead.

Bringing forth elusive shades, toughest to discern in light,

All that we had hoped forgotten, all that hidden need regret.

We close our eyes in reflex, a sudden shudder at the touch,

A bitter macabre-parade, dance all our sins remembered.

With the passing mourn, for that peace we will no longer share,

And renewed innocence that we can no more affect.