Tell Me, Traveler, Where Do You Come From And Whither Are You Bound?
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HIRE THIS WRITER
I come from the Garden of Eden, sir,
So beautiful, so rare!
But I lost her, Eden, sir,
And all the goodness there.
Then I wandered in the desert, sir,
Stark and burning bare,
I nearly perished in the desert, sir,
In the devilís own cruel lair.
I came upon a cross then, sir
Bloody, yet somehow rare,
Holiness was murdered, sir,
And hung in pain up there.
I cast down my guilt and sin,
Accepted mercy not my share,
I am bound for heaven, sir,
A world of freedom without care.
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Hi Lauren. I like this poem and the title of it. A nice flow and a lot covered in a short time. Is Jesus the one talking in this story or someone else? Who is the person talking to? Sorry I don't know. Thank you for the critique! I didn't notice my mistake of saying Job. I do know that whales don't lay eggs but thought it would be funny to make a nonsense statement (like "horse feathers" or "pig wings") and for them to accidentally mention the whale ahead of time. Keep up the good work.
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