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My Eden

I know Im dying.

Yet, the tears that I shed,
from the eyes that saw but misery,
are not for the love of a beautiful life,
that soon would become a past,so distant.

The dark blood that spils out,
from a heart that beats but its demise,
is not for the memoirs of a lost love,
that breaks everyone's but seldom the beloved.

the tears I shed, are for the paradise I lost,
for the days of spring; for the flowers.
for the song of the blue-eyed sparrow,
for the occasional rain drop that splashed by me.

But most of all, I yearn for the time I had,
for the freedom to do and follow mind's whims.
The unfettered life and the unbound hand,
the endless energy and the delightful freshness.

Why did I ever choose this shackle of Gold?
Why am I not the achilles? or the aristotle?
This feeling of being special, when I chose my cage,
Why did it fade away like smoke?

This spineless toil, the heartless race,
to reach the bottom of the bottomless.
the blood spilled and the sweat wasted,
would it buy a patch of grass by the river?

Yet deep within me, a shimmer reveals,
A joy though miniscule of being one
among the ancients who felt the same way;
That each man is an adam regretting his eden

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