Nevermore
An echo of things past
The haunting whisper of regret
A beckon into a dark future
A call from destiny
Nevermore shall I regret
Nevermore shall I dream
Nevermore shall I hope
Nevermore shall I doubt
Nevermore
A powerful mist
Clouding judgment and maddening the mind
Bringing old memories back into focus
Dragging dreams through the haze into reality
What is nevermore?
Is is a call from the past? A beckon from the future?
Is it a warning?
Does it generate prowess or success?
Or does it kill hopes and dreams?
Should one follow the path of nevermore?
What would happen if they do?
Where does Nevermore lead?
It could lead to a dreary and meaningless life full of uncertainty
It could lead to a life full of regret
Or it could lead to a life of promise
What can one accomplish with nevermore?
Can one forget the past? Erase mistakes?
Does nevermore bring relief to those plagued by regret?
Or does it highlight the pain of what can never be?
The past echoes with memories
Regrets whisper doubt into the mind
The future beckons with a murky hand
Destiny calls out faintly
Nevermore


Forevermore
A promise often made and a promise hardly kept
A call to action
Those who hear the call respond eagerly
With one heart they cry out their promises
But when the time comes for action
Few would be found who keep their word
Those who promise many things
Can hardly be trusted for anything
Especially not for those who have need
Need for a great many things
Things that can be greatly based
On promises that were made with haste
Beware, young soul, of lips that beckon and call
Protect your heart from their empty promises
Be careful of whom you trust
For those exist who proclaim loyalty
But do not remain steadfast in need
They arrive gallantly when you first seek
But promises they never keep
Their company often finds
Itself trapped in their webs of lies
Be cautious, dear youth, of the things you are told
Of those who promise many things
Promises that have an empty ring
Forevermore
A promise like a broken mirror
Distorting views and tricking minds
The mirror has a reflection
Both clear and warped at once
How can one tell whether to trust that reflection?
How do they know whether to run?
Everything inside wants to keep the old mirror
The way that things were and the beliefs that were held
It is like holding pieces of that shattered mirror
Desperately trying to put back together what once was
The more attempts that are made to repair the mirror,
The greater the damage is done
With more investment comes more opportunity for pain
The more you try to fix what others have broken,
The more broken you may become
As you stare into that fractured mirror
Your brain begins to question
Once the questions begin, they do not want to leave
They distort your perspective and twist your gut
Your thoughts become feverish
Your head feels numb
You no longer know who you are or were
Or who you should become
All you know is this broken mirror
The promise made and shattered
The hope you felt was dismantled
Your confidence in yourself destroyed
The more you try to fix what has been disassembled
The more you lose your joy
And as you fumble to repair
As your sorrow fills the air
You find yourself holding far too tight
Onto what you thought was light
The broken pieces that you still hold dear
Begin to fill you up with fear
You cut yourself,
Sharp and deep
With the pieces of what you were invested in
The promise made became a tool
Though it is unclear whose tool it is
Who uses this for their benefit
The pieces of this shattered lie
Become the reason that you cry
The cut is deep and real and dark
The cut that exists within your heart
When you trusted, that fateful day
You never imagined it would turn out this way
And you ponder
And doubt
And fear
And question why no one is near
This is the danger of trusting those
Who make false promises without prose
Those who whisper and laugh and scheme
Those who promised you were a team
And so you wait for the hurt to heal
And as you wait, you cannot help but feel
You feel the effect of their walk away
You feel the fact that you've been led astray
You have been hurt
Like so many before
By those who promise
Forevermore


I sit on the edge of the beach
Staring out into the dark water
As I stare without purpose,
I consider the things which never were
Opportunities given and wasted
Time that passed too quickly
Personalities that have been changed and broken
Chances lost and never recovered
Emotions that were never said
Arguments never resolved
Passing thoughts that were never voiced
Regrets that plague the mind
Parts of yourself that slowly slipped away
Pieces of your past that were never recovered
Traumas that were never adressed
And dreams that have been long dead
I look out into the ocean
As the waves meet the sand
As the tide crashes against the land and the sand trickles into the sea
I dream of what there never was
And what can never be
Like footprints in the sand that never were created
Last steps never taken, first steps never risked
Small memories etched into the sand, that never came to be
These things all hold a power
Each resembles our past
But as the ocean rolls into the land,
All of these things are gone
They are taken, quickly but not quickly enough,
Leaving regret and sorrow and sadness
As we watch the things that we once loved dissolve into nothing,
We are left to wonder, and question, and dream, and hope,
Over things that can never be
I know no sense of time as I gaze
I know no peace or hurry
The only thing that I can feel
Is a knowledge of my loss
It is not always a loss that I have caused
Nor always one that was simply by chance
I feel the loss that I have had
As I watch the tide come in
And as I watch the dark waves crash against the sandy beach
I dream and hope and wonder about
The things that can never be
But as I sit on the edge of the world
Thinking about these things
I know in my heart that it is also true
That another loss exists within me
A loss that is not from what can no longer happen
Or things that did not happen in the past
But a sense of longing and regret for the loss
Of the things that could never have been
It is different, you see, from what can never be
Reader, I know this is true
I feel regret from what I remember of the past
Of things that I know never occurred
I pity and mourn for the things which I am sure
Never did happen to me
Things that I look back upon and realize
How different it could have been
These things are sad, so sad, it is true
But what is worse is thinking about
What never could have happened to you
These impossible things that I am sure were not real
That evaded my life through and through
Dear reader, I say, there is nothing as bad, as what could not happen to you
For things that did not occur cause misery
They make the rememberer sad and gloomy
But is it not worse
Far worse, I should think
To realize your forbidden opportunities?
The things which, no matter how life twisted and turned,
Never were possible for you
It is like, at the end, reaching out your poor hand
Seeking but doomed not to find
And knowing that life, the cruel force we have, created a curse of what never could be
When I sit and stare
Into the vast ocean
I think of things that can never be
I ponder the chances I had once to take
The things that I could have done differently
These things exist now, for me to embrace:
The idea that I could have changed the way things happened
The regret exists, rich and sour,
But I welcome the regret compared to the other
The helplessness I feel when I think of my life
And I know the things that could never be
Things that were not lost, but not found
Things that just never existed
Opportunities and chances I never did get,
And that could never have been given to me
It is different than footprints in sand that were never created
It is different that memories never made
Those had the chance, the dream, the desire
To leap out and exist in one's life
But what could never be, is much, much different
For those footprints never could have been made at all
There was no moment in time, no hidden chance
Where they could have been created
Other regrets are tied to What if?
But this loss is really quite different
For you see, it was never truly a loss at all
But the knowledge that a chance has been missing
A book never published is a sad thing indeed, but worse is a book never written
A lost dream was at least once a dream,
With times when it could have been followed
But those are still there that have never existed
That could never exist at all

Hi, very nice!