Before

If only I could return

to before

craving the affection of deceivers

and reaping the sting of trickery,

before

ignoring the sirens of truth

to embrace the sweetness of lies,

before

my treasure was devoured by beasts,

leaving my chest full of disappointment,

before

the seed of sorrow burrowed into my womb,

birthing an endless flow of tears,

before

passing by the meadow of reality

to pluck the fruit of illusion,

before

disobeying parent and God

to travel the path of fools.

©2019 Rosalin Moss