Pure

Purity is of the past,

when hands had not possessed fingers yet.

When there was nothing to remember,

And truth and life hadn't met.

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When clouds were white without the rain,

And hearts were not yet filled with blood.

When tears were not of guilt or pain,

And the sand had not yet turned to mud.

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When minds were still untended,

And oceans did not yet roar.

When bats didn't fall to fly,

And sweets did not make tummies sore.

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When I was not yet who I am,

And didn't destroy with every glance.

When nothing was yet my own,

But a little bear chance.