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It was Pity killed God-Nietzsche (Free verse) by vulcan

1(Voices in Paradise) We live in a land of ever-blooming flow'rs Where trees bear no forbidden fruits. Where Angels love us and we love them too, Where we do nothing but eat and woo. 2 God is here Like anywhere else Like when we lived and like when we died. He still gazes on us With that Paternal Pity of His Which made Him kill us To show us some Better Place. 3 In this all-charming countryside Is still a tree charming than all; We asked God"what fruit bear the tree?" He dully replied"Nothing Especial!" "These Not-especial trees will be death of Him!"we thought; He heard our reproach yet heeded not. 4 We stretched our hands to pluck the fruit What could it make of us?a batman or a brute?! Indifferent both seemed to us We ate it for there it was! 5 We then looked around apple-plucked, A trumpet sang, the mystery unlocked. An angel stood in the middle of a void Abounding;Something Was Not. 6 A hollow pitiful voice was stealing over the trees and the ever-blooming flow'rs Over the cherubium's wings,over the drooling men's bow'rs The angel in the void spoke The pitiful note unceased, God had cried alot Before He on His sword unassisted fall.

Christof 30-Aug-02/2:39 AM
What you did for Freud in 'The title is over-used!' you do for the dear Lord here. Marv'lous.




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