The Grass Is Greener

It was better now, everything at the same level,
put together, intended, meant to be integral;
The Gods of Foxcroft had finally gone away,
no longer needed another body so they say.

I liked my old body, always different from yours,
although it bore the scars of so many wars,
one where you maybe bit me just too hard,
another perhaps where I'd dropped my guard.

There was no more punishment, all forgiven,
to think that I was put through the end again;
now, we strolled along, those lazy heaven days,
a relief after the folly of all those Earthly ways.

But remember, you have work to do for magical,
the camel couldn't pass thro' the eye of a needle.