The Glorious Past

To the glorious past;
and the myth of half remembered yesterdays.
Where ground you can retread,
but whose prizes have long since gone.

To the glorious past;
where the dead still live.
We greet and not saying goodbye.
Opportunity has not yet passed,
and first impressions can still be made.

To the glorious past;
with blue skies and shining sun.
Of bodies tanned, toned and young.

To the glorious past;
and the moments before the plunge.
With the race not yet won.

Why would I not be in the glorious past?

To the glorious trap;
a labyrinth of chasing shadows.
Where grasping hands only ever clench smoke.
The shot but an echo and the powder gone.

To the glorious trap,
should never have looked back.
Went for comfort and ended lost.

To the glorious past, that glorious trap.