The past has no redemption: A poem

The street grows number with every footfall

Here the past disappears beyond recall

Old debris lie amid mystery’s utter depth

such that no lessons are learnt in retrospect

And the shamus taps quixotic at the riddle

Attempting to unravel what lies eternally hidden

Fantasising that he could even change his standing

Trace back the palm-lines, tweak providence

Find a wormhole to infinitely superior locations

From where he could survey all with complete confidence

They are now discovering that the past is inevitably locked

No inverse impetus can rearrange history once docked

The crimes that have been, will have no redemption

Debunking the theory of universal salvation

Permanent scars the face of humanity shall bedeck

For even Christ may have died only for the elect