The secrets slept in me.
I even kept them from myself.
I clung to conjured absolutes.
Ignored the Oracle.
Hair of Summer.
Heart of gold.
Mace so crude.
Beasts to fear.
At birth I had an older soul
And each Spring she grows younger.
She doesn't need to use her eyes.
She's walked the path ten thousand times.
Tear away the veil of lies
And drown me in veracity.
The wind whispers my name.
I answer as if in a dream.
I've traveled long. I've traveled far.
To bless the Oracle.
Hair of Summer.
Heart of gold.
Mace so crude.
Beasts to fear.
At birth I had an older soul
And each Spring she grows younger.
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The best girls are made with both sugar and spice, a good bit of naughty to go with the nice.
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