Mystic

Life’s continuum of regrets,
I cling to such as thee,
Seems I’ll never forgive, forget,
Nor have Fates forgiven me.

I tend to forget, to forget to lay,
A carapace over the bee,
To prevent the sting upon my soul,
And deny its eidetic glee.

Bury my sin in darkened pits,
Under an evening elegy,
Caste it from this mind of mine,
Into depths of Clementia’s sea.