the price of sin
the price of sin
after committing the sin believing myself free and clean
i still glanced all about worrying if anyone was watching
balance on a point perceiving a secret snickering gleam
replace an angel mask not hurrying the rifle’s notching
unsuspected seeking to blend adjusting withered wings
casually folding white robes to hide the red bloodstains
while giving no cause to offend though a miasma clings
as one invisible layer erodes a facade all evil maintains
steps taking me further from the crime strangely heavy
lifting one foot after another soles dragging in the dust
settle under a burden to come waters surge to the levee
the leaks threaten to uncover and expose the false trust
softly closing the door of sin leaning hard in raw relief
preparing to let lies out again creating god’s next belief