Poem By Tomás Ó Cárthaigh


In the eyes of Eve was not Evil
But a desire of love for to know,
And the act of Adam was not bad
The act of Love to show.
Nor was the eyes of woman evil
That hold love in their hearts within,
Nor evil are the lusts of men:
Evil are those who call it sin.


In the arms of Eve was not evil
For how can it evil be
Reguardless of state of undress, your love to caress
The reasoning I cannot see.
To have the arms of a lady
Around you in sweet embrace
Is no sin when she dont belong to another,
No evil is within her face.


The serpent that spoke, spoke not of evil
As he dangled from the tree
Oh no, for love would have found its way,
And so, not evil was he.
And the heel that stamps him to the dust
And said that all others likewise should,
Knows only evil in his heart,
As to know love he nevercould.


Desecrate the act of the showing of love
By denying and condemning a need
To be loved, and to give love
Gave rise to indulgence of greed.
And so the act of love came not of the heart,
But purely of sensation to feel,
Which without love is empty,
And without love is not real.


And the loudest voice kept shouting
Their version of the story to tell,
So that now it is the only one
Of how out of favour Adam fell.
When hearts grow cold and love no more,
And love is but a historical fact
When we use each other for lust alone...
Then sinful is the act.


And those who love have never known
And to never know it, have planned
Live not in the world of men
And so canot understand.
For he he who to love has closed his heart,
Never love will know,
And he who has never known love
Never love can show.


So, was there Evil in Eden?
Does the Good Book decieve?
Tell us a lie and not why,
As the Gnostics believe?
The Bible is but a book
With any opinions within
Hearts of good and evil find their kind,
And mark out what they call sin.


For a man or woman who truly loves
And their love they share
Are loved by God on his own
For He knows whats truly there,
In the deepest cavern of their hearts,
From all the world hid
It matters not the cermonies of man,
To heaven, on death, they'll be bid.

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