By the poisoned well,
we sat down and wept,
longing for Eden.
On a decaying tree
we hung our hopes.
For there our captors
and our distorted loves rejoiced, saying,
“Eat, drink, and be merry!”
And so we celebrate,
toasting death, drinking poison.
we banquet in the grave.
foolishly seeking to numb the longing,
drinking away what is most true about us.
Disordered loves twist us further in on ourselves,
echoes of Eden fading in our ears,
broken hearts oblivious to destruction.
But such is the path of hope,
for twisted desires never satisfy
and poison never nourishes.
Blessed is the One
who drinks poisoned cup to the dregs,
and bends twisted hearts straight!