One sin too many
tipped the scales,
mortality, not life
prevails.
For Eve, you know
just could not wait,
her female hunger
hard to sate.
The serpent eyed her
thinking how
he'd transfer all his weakness now:
The weakness of not wanting much
the weakness of
his cold dark touch.
Take this, he hissed,
God won't be pissed;
the obedient creature
is not missed.
Eve was not sure
and for a while
thought this is naughty,
not my style.
But then she thought
our life is hard in
this infernally pleasant
garden;
God must know
that stories need
a conflict
for the mind to heed.
Thus did the serpent
choose most fit
she who knew
before she bit
The fleshy fruit
raised to her jaw,
the story is our god's,
she saw.
And Adam
more prone to be led
saw the truth of what she said.
Swallowing hard
he looked about
in mortal fear
he turned to shout:
"Oh no! We're in
the story line,
we'll have to be interesting,
not devine!"
Creation's ratings, now assured,
though we'd rather not have any.
We wonder, should we have demurred
before one sin too many?
