.
When I was Adam’s apple–
tender pain shot to my core.
The burden of mass starvation
came knocking on MY door.
Tempests that began as a sigh for man–
shoots through my veins where the bad blood ran.
I was a cross bound sinner
ever since my two feet hit the ground.
I remember hearing the woman speak
and that haunting, hissing sound.
Why couldn’t I be more thankful
and run from misery,
instead of it rearing it’s head
and sinking its’ nails in me?
Once we walked into the sunset’s light,
scrawled calligraphy of a flood.
Even tried to warn ‘ol Noah
about the rising tide of blood.
We shook the tree, yet
it’s fruit’s been long forgotten.
Twins war for space inside her womb,
one will turn out rotten.
Tempests that began as a sigh for man–
shoots through my veins where the bad blood ran.
When I was Adam’s fingers…
