21.4.11

Bait

I walked through the forest
as wind insufflated the trees. 
Their cries, though deafening, were mere whisperings to me.
I look at the ground counting stones and broken twigs.
I look for your crown, among the devil's figs. 
Why insist on sleeping when you know night's dark fate? 
Your empty mind is nothing now. 
Just the devil's bait.

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