Life’s race

Your past will catch up with you,
It doesn’t matter how fast you run.
The history you’ve restrained,
Will seep through, undermine, then flow out,
And flout itself and goad you,
Never to be tamed.

Long time dead deeds threaten you,
Like a vengeful ghost echoing names.
You know this will engulf you,
So make meaningful what you have made,
’til it serves you no more and
Before it’s too late.

Stalked by premonitious fate.
Like thunderous beatings on the ground,
All around you rings despair,
Lifting the shroud on a songless corpse,
That gapes a future-past you;
Terror resides there.

Where you run, you don’t yet know
And as times go by, the start is lost.
And the cost is far too great,
A burden you are shattered beneath.
No matter how fast you run,
It will be your past that’s won.

Leave your thought.