Saturday, October 17, 2009

Work of God's Apple

Grappling on the filth and sediment
Though she speaks to me in precedence
You're also made of mud
All humans are corrupt

Clay lifeforms ceased to exist
When the woman and snake began to mix
A heretic of the purity
Endangering your sanity

Repeating the past but in stronger levels
For better or for worse but still disheveled
Images of the innocent
Never of contentment

She speaks with eyes aloft him
Then breaks the ties with slightest flinch
Maybe in the past
You would maybe last

The shame of lasting bewilderment
Life with countless impediments
It's best this ends
Before it begins.

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