Management of a heart becomes
Futile by the loftiness of emotions
Claiming blessings upon its actions
For only sins are formed,
And precautions take shelter under disrelish of a soul.

For whom, must one seek comfort from
When filiation has not cavort upon its own
And insanity feeds bigly, the needs for love.

But time swirls in wonders,
And doing right becomes heavier
Leaving ashamed the stature of being here.