Andrew

Original free-form poem

Go, my child, the forest awaits

The trees, the fruits, the waters, the beasts

Do not stray for long lest you get lost in the deep

For the trees seem fair and the fruit so sweet

But sweet isn’t sweet

For the Deceiver deceives

Come back to me my child, Apollo had his time

Alas, the nectar blinded you

For now you realize sweet

But sweet is not sweet

For the Deceiver deceived

--

--