I was such a fool.
Let all those days wither away.
Thinking about what could not be altered,
And let the past see me decay.

What joy could I have possibly gotten?
Billowing in the harsh winds of memories.
Letting the storm wreak all things I held dear.
Letting the storm wreck me.

I cannot tame the wind’s rage.
Just like I cannot control the past.
Because sometimes, letting go is worth more than holding on.
And if I can’t be the storm, I’ll be the hurricane tearing it apart.