A seal,
Broken.
Unconditional trust,
Destroyed.
The line,
Crossed.

Sublime beauty contrasted by the blackness of betrayal
Left to deteriorate like a Rose in the devastating hail
An apple sweet and perfect as the day of Creation
With a core that has rotted though the hungry still crave for more.

What a time machine could do, would it still be done?
Or are we still caught up ignoring the love of the Son,
For an apple so much sweeter than what these trees can give,
A commodity would be if the box had yet stayed closed.

As the fallen stars impose upon us what we see as wealth,
And the works of "The Man" threaten to diminish our health,
We fail to see the potential of our self,
If only the box were left closed
And the boat was not rocked,
Beauty undefined
No metal unrefined
Our tool would be love,
In the skies up above.