It was she who led me to you,
I was afraid yet she left me then
and I was lost in the imagination we live in today
as grasping now as clasping then.
Pointing to the stars and abyss,
feeding me recognition,uncreating the amiss
I grew,as an impish saline thief
replacing appreciation with grief.
No thought left uninhabited,
not just graced but razed to the ground,
seeking truths,kneeling them to yield
as a creation of a mind unsound.
Today a hundred Suns have set and fired
the moon to spark while it retired,
and myself,the Upstart of the Season,
with heavy heart and futile reason,
leaves..scattering an equal manuscripts writ,
with widened imagination and sharper wit.
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