Hold, here, an apple from orchard with golden glow,
Crisp, like water cool flowing, and clear,
Heart shaped,
Damnation of Eve
First fallen, and last.

Radiant red skin and firm feeling flesh,
Reminders of chagrined childhood,
At the hub, old life and new perfectly entwined,
Mother and child lie safe in dead arms.

A sound bites through as we feel destruction
And sanctuary is lost in a strange sided void;
Open minds feel your own damnation,
Memory and soul washed away by sweet tasted tide.

I like it.

That is so un-vogon..... (please don't shoot me out of an airlock only to be picked up by the heart of gold!)


AltF4 is amazed by digital watches....