The Fall
Credits/Pixabay “What if?”, asked Mrs. Adam naively. “What, Eve? Take this apple, Not my duffel”, affirmed Sir Pent. Dutifully, she calls out for Adam, the fruit in her hand Straight into the trap, his bad *thunderclaps as Mr. Adam bites into the apple* The Divine Rage is alight, flaming, The couple shudder in their body frames; Penitent, The serpent coiled up at some tree, Venerate, Of the Providential visitation. Curses abound, generational To the slithering clan and to The humankind, Clothed in foliage that could barely bind Stripped of, bashed from the sweet Eden Irredeemable! Out of the blissful garden, With loads of misery and no pardon. ‘’Why didn’t she take the…duff, duffl…the damn duffel? Argh! Now life’s a scuffle!” It will never be the same, again.