It all started way back then,
When the garden of glory fell into disrepair,
When the gates clanged shut,
And the fiery angel stood guard,
When temptation had arrived laced with poison,
And that sweet Turkish Delight
Turned out to be a Trojan horse of trauma,
And the world shifted on its axis
Forever changed.
Until that day on a hillside
When there was a rumble
And graves split open,
And blood trickled down a holy cross
So that life seeped back into the earth.
And though we continue to do our best
To barge our way back
Into paradise,
We may recall, may discover yet again,
That it’s the one cross-pinned man
Who holds the key to those gates,
One resurrection-lit man
Who can guide us past the fiery angel,
On our way back
To that garden of glory.
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