Syol *
END OF EDEN
A herd of clouds crossed the blue,
as horses down shady fields,
the road unfolds wooden shields,
against the wind bashing through.
And yet a gloom chapel stands,
above the lamb and the sinner,
in deadly dress runs the river,
dragging his mistress and child.
She was an old gone sweet heart,
taken by forced wedding bells,
ceased by his brother shotgun,
crawled same old train into crowd,
as narrowed heads opened hell,
that day he emerged back in town.