When Past History's door is open the rocky bottom beckons. Memories' desperate calls ring to remind of bleaker times, the heart was empty and lost. Decisions are made to leave behind the darkness, in newness walking on. What price becomes the heartache? when joy given out does not return? Joy then falters from disuse, when given, becomes neglected and unseen. Warmth now flows freely to create new memories bound with hope. New days are dawning from the past, reason enough to prevent new loss. To prevent new pain the goal, an ear to the past, with lessons learned. Remain open, at the price of heartache, the growth of love , my heart, lest in bitterness we sink again to ruin.