Bearing Fruit

In the darkest depths of the ancient grove of ancient Ede. Gnarled branches reach for the light in confession plead-co-guilty. Medusac Serpents ring outward in resounding query. to a wormhole-echo-narium, ported to a moment, of Original Sin, The presenter, the stage, concessions made of therein. Roots delve deep, delived upon a firmamented pillar of origins in it's holding sleep. Pre-enBarked-when life was smooth. Where fruits preceded action, 100 proof. Before the fermentation of intoxicating temptations. Reconciliation will bear it's fruit as a token of bearings. No longer withheld from holding oasic thirsts in it's vocationary phane. The chapter written, co-auth, co-seduced, burned, turn the page. One day this will all be restored and forgiven, them. The tree will hold out its branch, and slightly sway in the Glen, in limemoric romance, in that way. Shall offer tempting delicacy to Adam and Eve, and squirrels, and a porch swing, carefree in the night or in the light of day.