Reversing ***.

I’ve caused many mistakes by my own hand.
Fixated horror stills my every thought,
My hapless soul too wild to comprehend.
What have I done, what precious things are lost?
Reversing murder comes to mind at once,
A mercy granted by the grace of God,
Yet after it seems He’s granted a bunce,
Dreams disappear and all is a façade.
The details of the deceased start to blur;
I’ve never considered them much before.
I can’t recall what priceless things they were-
This fact alone makes me regret it more-
Simple mistakes I could have not foresaw
For that, my love, is how I lost it all.