There was I time a drank with much
gusto…..Potions from those leaves.
Vitality and joy they brought me
A healing…..My soul cleansed.
The nourishment spawning a renaissance
A rebirth of sorts and I was fulfilled.
Time passed…..things changed.
The stars were no longer aligned
My Nirvana proved to be a holographic
concoction of a psyche that longed for
redemption. The replenishing rains came
no more…..Tis a season of drought.
The roots of my once bountiful flora
have withered and died.
I am left with naught but dust.
For I reap a bitter harvest
The leaves are brown and the taste
is unbearable.

Copyright Charles Matheson aka Eqlektik