Because he ate the blessed apple
Several of them actually
It was their beauty he was after
And yes they tasted sweet
It came on suddenly the dreaded
Disease at four in the morning
Waking him with arrows of pain
Tearing in and out of his head
His body on the rack
He took two pills and woke
In the morning feeling much himself
But that was just the rushed overture
Of a whole symphony of suffering
With brief intermissions gasping for air
It was in the adagio movement
He wondered if disease might compensate
For egotism for how can we be good
If we won't face the evil we create
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