Song of the Vineyard

We once little in perfect peace, Your vineyard on a hill. Existing together you made us free, A Father’s perfect will. One day a curious thought crept in, A foolish notion of strength. A little idea whose conception was sin, Gave birth to the wider array. Soon we were suffocating, Inhaling a blanket of ash. A whirlwind of doubt constantly grating, The thought becoming a mass. We looked around and realized, You were no longer here. Our guilty hearts revitalized, Controlling us with fear. Without color and without light, Only the blind will see. White is black and black is white, A dissonant harmony. Like Babel we rose and fell, A nation on its knees, We were scattered beyond the well, Along the distant seas. Lessons learned are food for thought, The past an open book. Could we've with patience ever sought, That which corruption took?