"How shall I bare the sorrows of my heart,
That wretched pain pilfering my sleep,
The fall from Eden, the crumbling code,
The gluttonous greed of addled souls?"
"O dear Abel, behold the crimson fields,
Bathed in the blood of blameless men,
The fairness of reaping as one sows,
Slumbers in the emerald meads of yore."
"The lonesome birds sing no verdant songs,
The hills lament the dying bonhomie,
When men tilled pastures hand-in-hand,
And herdsmen smiled, doused in brotherhood."
"Shall we ever see the kingdom pristine,
Where God shepherds His lost sons back?"