Adamantly Flawed

Up the mountain in an old pickup
20 years ago, I lay in the wet of snow
And left my angel there
To melt over an untended garden,

My years were cast before swine:
One hand clutching forbidden fruit
I trod into desert, despaired
Over a path that was now lost,
When the weight of the watcher lifted
I wept unburdened

For having fallen into sunset
Over lawns, no angel to leave there
Disemboweled by disgust,
And all my days numbered

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