The Covenant

I remember the day I traded my humanity

for a bite of the apple you hold.

It tasted like a bittersweet flame

which engulfed my soul until I grew cold.

Now, the ecstasy of the apple is gone.

My eyes began radiating its own luminescence.

I rose from my grave and wafted back home

to finally justify my existence.

I brought back Prometheus’ fire

to the world I believed I held dearly.

But as the gates I forged begin to rust,

a ruthless void begins consume me.

I may have forgotten how sugar tastes like,

and gray is the only color I can still see.

But I can stomach such fragrant drought,

if I’d be able to remain free.

Or am I really free?