Thrown out of eden

Photo by Maarten van den Heuvel on

You did not understand me. (Echo) I didn’t even understand myself. (Echo) I used to look at my hands and my feet. (Echo) I questioned if they belonged to someone else. (Echo) I could hear me. (Echo)He was in me.(Echo) Still, there were the battles within myself.

Hasatan kept speaking to me. Speaking to me. Speaking to me! I had trusted my bleeding heart. It was misleading me. Misleading me. Misleading me! Feeding the fleshly desires of my lower self. Making me strong; where I should have submitted to YAH. But, who can know the wicked heart?

I knew that iron held heat. (Echo) But, I had to feel it for myself. I had to feel it for myself. I knew that once He really loved Me. (Echo) But, just like that iron! He left time traveling scars and pus yielding swelling. I easily retake the ride through time. Fueled by speed boosting shame and filth of mind. I started to barely know and love myself. All before grade nine. I let Him taint my soul. I was lost. I was almost out of the game. I proudly wore my shame.

Not, yet taken, but deflowered all the same; by my friend and myself. In a room once again; with a life long friend. Doing things that were bad for my health. I was wrong. Disgrace my father. Made my mama ask herself. Where’s my baby?

Well this baby wants some babies for herself. He said he loved me. Begging for me. We made love and then what’s left? I was young. I was broken. My visual of love was lies and many harsh words spoken. Our bond stood forcefully broken. By a heart who had no notion; of the seriousness. Or maybe we were wrong.? I was thrown out of Eden before I had even left home.

Photo by Ana Bregantin on

Black and milds made me smile. Had to have one before class. E & J kept me hype. Or maybe gin if that’s alright. Pop a pill what’s the deal? We can do anything that we like. For tonight.

We came alive in the night. We were wrong in it. We had no sight. We are people of the Light. Could we come out of Her?

I lost the fight. I was blinded; always scrapping and being loud. I stood under worked, overworked, under paid and played. I lived the meaning of disdain. I wore insane with my people. Feet quick to run the way to mischief. I was thrown out of Eden; into death.

I knew a way. I was taught a way. A way to never be alone. To never feel less than again. To get just what I had been wanting all day long. Work my magic. Get my fix.

Where’s my phone?

So, I’m his guest again. My waiting and wanting lover. My old school horney friend: a long time friend. This time. I’m finally single. So, let the games begin. But, on paper. He’s not.

She doesn’t mind. Their time is spent. The drinks are poured morals ignored. Now, we are back at it again. Tomorrow we can face the truth.

Can I borrow you? Your time? Your shine? Your inner you? Your honey? Your mind? Is it mine? It will be mine. Tonight? Tonight.

Photo by Cxpturing Souls on

The world out there is no place for you.(Echo) But your head can help to crush your life. Can help to crush your life. Fathers, mothers, husbands, owners; yes masters too. You see.?

With closed ears and closed fists; they can beat heaven out of your youth. Their words cease to shed any light. You’ll be thrown out of Eden. You’ll have to fight for your life. For your right to keep your light. You could lose sight of you. If you lose sight of You.

We pass down doings of hidden truths. Through ibri proverbs that taint the mind. We hear YAH and don’t know it’s YAH. We progress not. We seek not HIS will. We seek only to die fast. We are often left with burned feet and a soft dirty ass.

For the road that we have chosen. Wears a bridge that has been broken long ago. During an once everlasting age. We pass down generational poison; on this road. Our ru’aahs to HE; are tethered no more. We’ve been thrown out of Eden. Because we have chosen to ignore ALL.

I still witness some of achotym who remain sealed up in strife. They stand cemented on a whorish way. Cobbled with freewill and unbelief misguided. Never being enough. Never drawing nigh. Never being redeemed. They’ve been thrown out of Eden. Petitioning the world to allow them back in. Never fully seeking the HE within. For HIS power.

Photo by cottonbro on

Hey Mama, This is my friend: Henry. Oh, He is just another silly stain of doubt.

Doubt. Fake completion: an outer scene. Prepared for without. (Echo) To appease the world and it’s wicked nature. To make sure looking mouths do not doubt. (Echo) Displayed on the gorgeous face, back and shoulders. Of a foolish brittle child.(Echo) She wears the shame of the broken, fondled ones scattered all about. The boys and girls who didn’t think to scream, nor to even open their mouths. But, instead just smiled. Moving on.

For the meek at heart; when they started out. Whom our curious cousins helped to defile. Some completely destroyed her inner She. Made her pregnant or permanently soiled. Foul.

Some people even drugged her. Spiked her drink. Coked her weed to watch friends take advantage of She. Foul. Some even did it to guys. Leaving Him wondering desultorily. Phantasmal on a man made island. Devastated. These things build up hate. You get beside your self. Foul.

Why She? Why these demons? Why here? Why now?(Echo)

The men folk sure do like this child. (Echo) Dang, these men really like me. (Echo) Should I tell my mom and dad? (Echo) And We smile. (Echo) And they Smile. (Echo) To be defiled. Still a child. Whether by force or willingly. Done by a stranger, family, foe or friend. Is still death to us; the mental us. It’s just like being thrown out of Eden.

Lost and immature.(Echo) We find ourselves wallowing in some of Life’s finest manure. Life’s finest manure. Life’s finest manure!

We were pure. (Echo) Before our uncles got a sniff. Our female family prepped; then ushered in pain and curses. They passed to us the retched deeds. We got fouled and became foul. We poisoned qodesh; fighting disdain. They’ve been thrown out of Eden; just like me.

But we are to start fighting to find our ways back into HIS grace. Out of sin. Into Towrah; the way YAH paved for us to not die. Way back then. Towrah is the way that leads us back to Eden. It pulls us away from death. It pulls us out of sin.

Photo by Brett Jordan on

We wear the stripes of our elders. Their lack of words; when the judges should have been called. When the elders of Israel should have rallied; calling TWRT as a sword. They refused to listen diligently. When righteousness screamed to be let out. Instead, their many judgements had no answers; for the soul roaming in vexation. One whose tether is severed by ignorant pleasures. From these elders we have amassed wicked (dysfunctional) deeds.

A generation of sin soaked panties, teddies, mirrors and unqodesh beds; vibrates the pass into our atmospheres. Vividly out lining the haunting silhouettes of past loves who have come to leave. With sour mouths we draw near to HE. But with our hearts draw not in to hear. Shema. I what he said to me. I do. I’M TRYING TO GET BACK TO EDEN!

We wore screams, confusion and perverted situations. From the cookout the other night. When Grandma turned off the lights. It was not right. Now, the puzzling dreams and urges rarely stop. We fight the battles of a conscientious war. We hold a lot. In a cluttered spot. Where darkness uninvited chose to linger. Awake. Where the call from the world doesn’t stop. When they misplaced us. The streets embraced us. They reeled us in with fabricated rewards and love.

Photo by Andreas on

In this sickened place; some of us stay. Willingly playing a role of the battered thief. Tearing down hearts and leaving a string of bad endings. To get back to our broken homes of papering patterns. We have excuses for lack of patience. Our feet move swiftly toward mischief’s way. This is witchcraft in action. Witchery’s whirlwind. They know not the ways leading souls back to Eden. But to the end.

We don’t return home to sit silently; alone. To sit silently alone. We will not to find our way back to purity. We are not seeking the vibes of authentic ahaba. To HaMashiach. The Christ. The indwelling perfect ahaba. The entity that we pay no mind to. Yet, we say that we want His being freeing gifts. We’ve missed out on Eden for far too long. We can be loosed to seek His face. In the presence of His qodesh seat. We find place to kneel; to let Him speak. It’s too hard being thrown out of Eden. Hamashiach will help us to get back in. Just go seek Him. Ba hashem Yahawasha’.

Photo by Rifqi Ramadhan on

-KARDAYAH’S Soul 2021