Weed

At the time of writing 
Ignorance was bliss,
I found myself blessed by
The Mistress of Dawntime,
Her embracing feathers &
Juvenile smile

At the time of reading
Ignorance all but rejected,
I found myself grasping for
The straws of crop circles,
The fringe across the forehead
An itching smirk

At the time of judgement
Ignorance long since purged,
I found myself unreachable,
The Mistress a mere memory,
The crops merely
Weed

Copyright ยฉ 2021 @behind-the-veil-of-sanity / Hayden Veil

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