He was never deemed worthy.
He himself knew that from the start.
And yet, for some reason,
he could not deny the role
the story wrote for him to play.
He was mad,
for he was
unchosen.
Yet to his dear brother
he committed the first murder.
No tears could hold together
the broken man he had become,
and no wall nor fence
could hold his back
against the tears of heaven.
It should have been his father
to make this act first—
if not for the fact
they had already been thrown
from the garden.
The devil was spared
from the betrayed father.
But later on,
who could save the child,
both from the world
and from himself?
Silver had not yet been discovered.
No noose yet tied for a neck
to adorn an old tree
standing in a desert place.
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