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Of Eden - 08/01/1999

At a whim we create,
for pleasure we propagate.
Abuse when we are blessed,
at Eden where we guest.

Take all for granted,
the seeds that we planted.
Mock the gift of creation,
in Eden, we the poor relation.

As a child who is spoiled,
in ourselves too embroiled.
As a race unrepentant,
on Eden we are dependent.

Reproduction inadvertently,
pleasure the only certainty,
destruction our escape
of Eden which we rape.
 
© Nicholas Vosper 2001