Reflections #1... Past buried alive (Kvelding)

As I stood there beneath a cloud stained sky that day
and the winds played in the early morning air
In the company of the others
for the possibly last time would turn out

In these new ranks I would finally find my place
but the trace of the old was right in front of me
Images of gone times resting deep down in the dark waters of my soul
found a way up for a moment to stir the surface

Sins and deeds form my past.
I keep stabbing it violently, but it won't die away.
The wound won't heal
I have buried it all in the deepest of graves
but it still finds its way back

I blame parts of it on them
Why else could I have done something against all I stand for?
But when the truth stands there naked and ugly
Blaming others will do no good
for the author of all the pain and grief is me and I

As I stood there that day in August
counting seconds for the right one to come
I knew that the last traces of old had taken other paths
And ours wouldn't had to be crossed again

Noone would ever again put more fuel on my burning fire of hate
This hate for what I was
...