WHAT HAVE I. DONE.
A poem based off Genesis 3 by Robinson Francois
done. Is this deed in the middle of the day, my breath evades me, suffocating waves of despair, I can’t bear this weight.
What have I
done. To believe this scheme portraying me playing God. That snake deceives, all I see is the stench of sin. My tent open, exposed to the elements even this breeze is eerie.
What have I
done. To receive this decree, why would he put that wretched tree in our midst. This kiss of death breeds deep in our being. Now my life is redeemed of me.
What have I
done. Is the beauty of our Union now residing in this last act, enlightened you cast a cloud of bad judgement. I know reign over you reluctant Eve.
What have I
done. Are my days sitting court side, no longer in your court. Got no connection to your WiFi, no longer subscribed to your voice.
What have I
done. No longer alive I’m have been stripped of my joy. What do we call this process Eve, I’m filled with grief. I’ve stripped of my boy and and lost the other to unbelief.
What have I
done. I drop to my knees in need of reprieve from this onslaught, I weep as leaves falling to their bottom, I’m at my limits how many seasons must we wait on this seed.