The Funeral

Decrepit, crooked, and withered
The last few hours waning nigh
It will come to a close.
The preparations already
Beginning.
Shutters being drawn.
Doors being closed.
Slowly all becomes silent.

But the old year does not
Die alone.
Boisterous celebrations
Accompany the heavy
Casket to the
Grave.
The weight of pain
The weight of sin
The weight of mistakes made
Falling into the gaping hole of
The past.
Letting go and moving on.

In comes the fresh
The new
And the un-spotted.
A clean slate to rewrite
The future.
A time to recommit
Reinvent
And remake
Yourself.

I am letting go
Of that which
Broke me.
I am embracing
That which
Strengthens me.