soft grumbles

An Ode to Lilith

We should have been equals –
not a shadow or a second thought
born from your ribs,
but a soul forged
from the same earth and dust.

We were equals then.
No mention of Eden’s gate,
no serpent’s hiss,
no crimson fruit –
just fire—my passion,
fierce and untamed.

Why label me tramp,
cradle-snatcher,
devil incarnate?
You punish me
for claiming the path
to my own pleasure—
a place no man has dared to find.

Had you only let me,
paradise would not be
unknown to man.