Solemn in my heart is a sweet flame
That failed to tell its name
One I had unwittingly known
Till I was fully grown.
She’s but every mans folly
Even those whom deem so Holy.
By her the wisest lost their wit
Yet many want a touch of it
But if and only if
In the gardens was a lonely Eve
will man ever grieve?
I seek to court the primary goal
of the inbound fight with the soul
That chart mans final path.