It used to be here,
At least that’s
What we remember.

How did it become
So very hard
To find?

It’s like it
Suddenly just
Disappeared.

It’s just lost
Among so many
Bootleg copies.

Like faerie gold
They turn to ashes
In the morning.

Which one
Is real?

Is the real one
Still alive?

Wisdom was a beacon,
Until it became
Good business.

The needle
Wobbles blindly.

Old path lost.

Time to carve
Our own.