I once was a child,
And I once was a theif.
I was a silver strung-
Drug lord of imagination; Mild.
Mild and cunning I was.
And I broke through the seal of the door just because,
I had to-
I did it with prominence,
And you flew further than I could see.
I released your mind,
And then you left me.
You left me with no other choice,
I stood at the corner- the boundary,
Like a drug lord,
Like a theif, pockets empty for the first time.
Silver strung-
Unlike the child I was before;
A were-wolf on a leash.
