To a place where roses on green thorns grow,
To the valley of death where rivers of life flow;
To man, who God's from dirt to make,
To a mind so fickle but for immortal sake.
Where He displayed His artistry--
That angels marvelled it's majesty,
But serpents walked, and apples grew,
And lions skulls of rabbits chew'd.
To existence and beautiful vainity--
To organised chaos, and veiled disunity;
To illusion and to God's greatest magic,
To life, and happiness ever tragic.
Like beauty out a window toss'd,
Welcome to Eden her paradise lost.