Testament of my addiction, I tremble by day as well as night.
Heaven and Earth, the penance seems apt… yet the guilt racks me.
Nectar of my heart, naivety has been ripped from it.
Estranged from devotion, life seems empty of bliss now.
In the end the ‘will’ shall be done, but I care not…
…perhaps the instance of atonement has yet to take place.
Uncertainty is a pleasure for the naïve in life.
Not one for uncertainty I plunder the field of dreams.
Opening Pandora’s Box, I fear I let lose the unmentionable.
Reckless that was, yet the performance required was exquisite.
Framed! The cry rings out for all who can hear the call.
Instances aplenty play havoc with my conscience…
…whilst trapped in a cycle I fear the end is nigh.
Some indiscretions are mine; some are not… yet none absolving.
Malevolence from this well seems all but infinite to my eyes.
How could this come to pass, this iniquity that is my becoming.
Easily tempted, for unjust the verdict was read, yet…
…what is to become of the plunder unsought?
To the future once more I dare to glance, for it seems more…
…vivid to me.
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