We are in exile.

We live outside the promised land.

Our hearts yearn for it.

Our eyes weep.

...We collapse by the river and lament.


Exiled from our mothers womb.

Expelled from the garden.

Memories of the promised land

Haunt creaky corridors in my heart

...I thought freedom was the path I chose.


The womb is heaven. Heaven is confining.

My ego was to large for that place.

I crawled out head-first into the cold,

Screaming and crying and covered in blood.

...Reality deals it's crushing blow.


The garden is heaven. I am never content.

How could God keep any tree for Himself?

I'll show Him. I'll take it. I'll survive.

He's holding out on me. My way is best.

...If only I'd known.


The promised land was ours.

Yet here we sit mourning.

Living in the past. Hoping in idols.

We've exiled ourselves-our chosen path.

...But the way back has been opened.


Paradise lost was ours all along



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