Only a weak man would intrude
                    on virtues of another.
For a strong man knows that within him
                 is the virtues of a woman's birth.  

And with out them, he would be nothing.
            Those that intrude on the innocence,  
         have a weakness not of man
but of value and are neither of morality or humanity.

But the sinking ventures of humanities folly.
                For all of creations bindings are
                                but a creation of before.

And even those that are  pure some are always
                              damaged to the point of sorrow.
Never guise all under one brush,  
   because each is a different stroke.

And some are just not meant to be allowed
                                                   to paint a canvass.
          let alone a memory upon another's ever
                                                changing innocence.