I was - She is

I was the sound of a tap, running in the night,

So you knew someone else was awake,

I was the fire that makes the dark light,

When you knew you wouldn’t make it to daybreak

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She is a song, dancing on the lips of Gods,

You hum her tune throughout the day,

She is a rare flower that grows against odds,

The kind you pluck so her petals turn grey

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I was the hands as I planted my garden of Eden,

The one you can still see if you squint,

I was my flower-prayers as a newly fledged heathen,

Each of God’s denials made a new imprint

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She is the rarest and most precious antiquity,

And you watch her with loving eyes,

She is the concoction all your iniquity,

You see only night but she’s a sunrise

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I was the smile that stayed on your face,

As you trampled the garden I raised,

I was the land that was my sorrows birthplace,

I watched you with my eyes glazed

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She is everything, but nothing if not my twin,

Hatred is the thorns that we were both crowned,

Because the Garden created your original sin,

her Eden was your stomping ground

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I was the incessant need to thank you,

For it is more beautiful now than ever before,

Because it is spite that stains the roses new,

And they are the burning red of war.