Remembering blissful ignorance,
And its sweet, sweet touch,
I cannot help but think,
That I have learned a little much.

I've read, I've asked,
And I have been shown,
That there are things,
Which are better left unknown.

The end of ignorance,
Without reaching your goal.
Realizing you are dying,
Without reaching your goal,

Someone without hope,
Is beaten before they fight,
They stagger blindly through the day,
And sightless in the night,

When you fall and do not get up,
There is no going back,
You're dead, you've lost your chance,
How sad, alas, alack.

Penned by my hand on the 5th of Midsummer, in the year 145 MA.