A Graveyard

We're sick enough to spill someone else's blood Paint a picture of ourselves with it, and call it love I guess that's what the ego does When it forgets the bodies we've become will eventually turn back to dust We've held onto the worst parts of our nature Tried to survive on rotten fruits of our labor- Maggot filled and mangled flesh, should've seen it as a sign But lately we've been complaining that the apple hasn't been tasting right Taste buds blossom and reach up for the taste of death Spit spilling out our lips, smoke collecting in our chests Hands erecting effigies where all of the ash collects Man the flames we set ablaze, and call ourselves the architects We didn't plant this garden, no. It grew on its own Now its starting to resemble all the bones we left below Palms open, hands stretched. Strangely I can never tell If they're reaching up to comfort us or asking us for help Oh Eden, please believe That the snake still slithers in our teeth With the lies that we believe to satiate our endless need to be Better than the barren land we leave beneath our battered feet We watched skylines start to erupt Saw cityscapes in the empty space that surrounded us Burying the truth we knew we couldn't sell Paradise was never lost. We stole it from ourselves