The Garden

Still on the biblical tangent after the Fall.

 

 

 

 

My heartless offspring, My mirror shattered:

I give you my fruit, and am left with the core.

This fermentation of dissention, this serpent of discord.

I have fed you, but am left alone,

The gate slamming behind you.

You are cursed and let free to find your way,

While I am locked here, in my Garden--

Of dissention, Of discord

Of ignorance, Of bliss.

This, the only imaginable outcome--The way of eternity.

Could you go through forever, still caring?

Could you?

Feel worms of regret; an era of extremes--

Benevolent and Awesome,

Or Ambivalent and Distant?

A desert of hope; A violent flood of good.

Choices, these I give you.

Choices, I have none.