I mourn Eden everyday
because somewhere between there
we have forgotten that love
and innocence are a sacred thing.
The tree of my life has seemed
to have rooted itself inside of him
and has found what it has been
searching for all of these years;
exactly what it needs to grow.
Though I have found my Eden,
his tree is wilting
and I searched inside of myself
to find what makes it grow
but nothing that I have
can make it blossom.
As long as his tree is still alive,
Eden is in his sun ladened mind
and I find the last
remaining innocence there,
though he himself is wilting.
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