• by LL

Last flower

If my name wasn't Eve,

godly Grace had not left Us.

Instead, my Children killed our Children;

bleeding swords and rusted canons point towards the ocean of Humanity:

blind Rage, insatiable Greed and usurping Malevolence.

Marshes cover now the once Garden of Knowledge;

toxic grounds extend to the end of times,

Noah's Progeny graves rot deprived of purpose.

In the dark remoteness, by the charred, wrecked Cross:

one vermilion flower draws its feeble life from the immolated Blood.

Devilish as you may seem, you stand for last thin human hope.

A tangle of snakes, feast on your delicate fibres.

Poisoned and faded, you will surrender to sure Death.

- Too precious you are, for in you the stamens of new Life -

Ascending from the depths, avenging from the original Sin:

here I stand, with my last concession.

- What I destroyed needs rebuild -

Pull you strongly, hold you in my hands.

Your thorns hurt deep like nails on Golgotha.

Only evil you have known,

mothers to you were Disobedience and Chaos.

- I forgave you my child, for in you the fundament of a new World -

If my name wasn't Eve,

had the last chance been lost, forever.

"I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love." (Mother Teresa)

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