Evermore

We weren’t walking in a perfect garden
But it was ours, and ours alone
We didn’t know about the snake
Slithering along our lives
Claiming friendship, offering lies
We let the snake into our garden
It weaved deseption among us
It separated the weak from the pack
Wrapping its body slowly around its pray
Whispering sweet nothings into ears
It was to late when we saw it for what it was
The snake had already bitten
Our garden tarnished further
Now a wasteland of heartache
Every corner a reminder of our deception
Yet the snake lives on, free to bit again