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From gods To Dust
As hideous as the Witch of Endor,
he came on a beautiful splendor.
As ignorance as a child,
she accepted the tide.
Virtuous as holy truth,
truthful as a knight of old.
With her heart wide as hope,
she ate of the forbidden fruit.
Then came her other half
telling him of the good tide.
About how God had lied.
About how she had eating
and yet still alive.
As voiceless as the tomb,
speechless as a stone.
As tuneless as a bag of wool,
unhappy as King Lear.
He ate the fruit of the
tree that have always been
there and forbidden.
And there eyes were opened.
From gods to dust,
They Fell.
poem
by
Enebeli Ifyprada
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