Walking inside myself

Memories linger and howl
Like ghosts in the Potters Field
Past stretches its bony fingers
I dodge them
Dodge the wounds made by the wind

Shrugging off the dust of the Decade of Decadence
I shatter the Facade
Looking for Tomorrow and sun

Dunno why this poem came out in English. Let's call it obeying an impulse and leave it at that.