A lifelong lamentation. Bitten um tausende Beichte, auf hunderte Sprachen.
A world in delightful sepia hue opens itself,
To the Child; that which had not cried for relief.
Kisses of pink on his cheeks, he lit up the shaded garden
With his bright smile, he plants a seed; oblivious to his sin;
Ennui takes root in his heart; shed is the blood of his kin;
From this Garden, he is banished with the Mark of Cain.
A fiery sunset of raging red wreaks havoc in the sky,
Signaling an unavoidable nightmare; no matter the try.
While the Child sins, expanding his soul with deceit and lies,
Stripes of light are stripped from the chrysanthemums;
As all light disappears, they turn into faded red spider lilies.
Despair takes root in his heart; a never-ending night falls;
From this Garden, he is banished with a half-inked semicolon.
A beautiful sunny morning presents itself to the Child,
Flowers of Evil flowing from his head, swaying with no end;
Light steps, unburdened by a heart, deliver ephemeral blossom.
Yet the weight of flowers bind him, deprive him of freedom.
The Child flees, only to see the endless sea of stars;
Insanity takes root in his mind; wind caresses his dark locks;
From this Garden, he is banished with twisted, violet eyes.
Suddenly, one day; after years of orange visions of madness,
A lumpy tuber is born from a past seed; a lamenting heart sprouts.
The Child’s eyes turn red, his face traced by transparent waves,
With silent gasps, he gracefully falls; unable to carry this new weight.
Pinned to the ground, his colorful companions spawn in an instant:
Uncertainty takes root in his new heart; every inch bothered by sin;
To this new Garden, he is banished; with clean red spider lilies therein.