Innocence grows up to offend
A moral compass to suspend
Straight to bend
Spark to fire, debtors lend

Pain to grow used to
Passes loveless through
Blue to reddish hue
Bowman’s arrows cue

The fair fall, beauties lost
We lie down, burdens tossed
Wires crossed
Tired, weary still with frost

A meandering way is set
Courses fail, to regret
Soul to let
Pleasure’s fragrance then to fret

From rooftop rings the fiddle
Giants storm the little
Wrought in riddle
Strained bones turn brittle

Insecurity constructs a tower
Building desire to flower
Flavor turns sour
Consumption by the hour

Doubt speeds a guilty pace
Eyes tell truth and chase
A tortured face
Meet me love, find me grace