Eve

There is a woman, and she sits all alone,
From the beginning of time, she perches her throne
And she bears witness to the troubles of life,
So much pain, so much sorrow and strife
And she is responsible, or she feels so within,
For hers was the first, and most damnable sin
Did destiny prevail, or was life in her hand,
Was she able to ignore the Devils command
The answer to the question is irrelevant, indeed,
It’s not for herself, that makes her heart bleed
Murder and destruction is what makes her cry,
Rape and indulgence, the parched breath of a lie
Pain, anger, and sorrow fills the Earth,
The lack of caring of what a life is worth
The continuing domination of the weaker, fellow man,
Of always taking from him, when ever one thinks they can
Famine and disease, the corruption of our youth,
The failure of man, to live amongst the truth
No, it’s not for herself that sorrow fills her breath,
She cries for Mankind, as she has become death