Righteous judge of vengeance,
grant me the gift of absolution
before the day of retribution.
What happened to the notions of love, grown tarnished and tad.
To be majestic and cruel, hoist by one's own petard.
These assaults on serenity and levels of effort misperceived.
The golden light of glow, nor bared or beheld.
Soon wishing sensitive introspection, rather than ashes of malice.
Forsakenly, many miles of untravelled road has gone to waste.
Damned art thee - there is still time to change the road thee art on.
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