My creative leap...

The years that passed have left their trace,
embedded on my tortured soul,
Imprinted on the sands of time- the bullets that passed but left their hole...

I shake the feeling and carry forth,
knowing not what life has in store,
my past imperfect, present seemingly perfect and future tense....

In words are hidden new meanings,
the experience that was, the rhyme that is and the story that shall be...

Try as I might I can't escape the passions or the plight,
of the charm that one's own imagination holds,
call them hallucinations or visions of a sleepless night....