On Those Who Follow After

How slowly the decent?

How terrible the journey?

As goodly son deceives...

Our prophets they? perhaps.

Our saviors they? 'till when?

And noble daughter breaks...





Such longing in them!

Such woeful inborn sorrow.

The quiet daughter waits.

Author's Note

Eva is the property of Gainax and those individuals or corporate entities which have acquired proper licenses. If they should request it this work will be removed upon verification of authority.

It's been a while since I've posted something here, so forgive me if I'm a tad rusty. Also, this poem and others originally had stanzas; site formating, however, seems to have done away with these for the moment (or I'm just encountering a strange bug in the coding). The original formatting on this and future additions will be implemented when the opportunity presents itself.

PS: If I'm just being "special" (or am experiencing a bug) and there is a way to implement the spacings, please let me know in a review or a pm.