Shadows of the Past

I opened the heavy door to the past,
Apprehensive of the shadow I knew it would cast.
I stood on the threshold, numb and stone cold,
Awaiting with terror the fierce adversary's hold.
I ventured not nurture positive hopes,
For surely, it would once again plague my distraught thoughts.

But I encountered a feeble spectre,
A lifeless, dull speck of what I used so much to dread.
The door is now open for the years to come,
For albeit nothing is ever truly undone,
However ghastly a monster may be,
You alone own the power to choose what to see.