Garden of Eden
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I was their, but at the time, wasn't
Looking upon my cold, pale body of the open casket.
My blonde hair was straightened
Cascading down my back
Eyes shut, and lips glossy
Shot twice in the chest
A being but not of flesh
He is existence
He is truth
He is all
The melody he sings
Graces the ears
Like honey the tongue
A fresh current sprung
Spreading, reaching, growing, flowing—unheard
