Old Debts

In the moonlit bay I stand,
My conscience casts a shade,
Cold waves revise my plan,
Old debts must be paid.

Salt air cuts through pretense,
Each breath declares the cost,
I measure each offense,
And weigh what I have lost.

The tide rejects delay,
It strikes with steady will,
It says I choose my way,
Or drift and forfeit still.

No past can hold me fast,
No chain outlives resolve,
I break from what has passed,
And let the knots dissolve.

The shore begins to clear,
A path forms out of strain,
I step beyond my fear,
And claim my course again.

The bay reflects no lie,
It mirrors what I choose,
I meet my own clear eye,
With nothing left to lose.