Piety is the cold refrain
repeated to ease the pain
with a chorus of like minds
denouncing comfort left behind
resurrected from past crimes
conveyed in warning by the wise

or experienced in the past
now reviewed with shamed abash
those artifacts of pleasure felt
when the guard was withheld
allowing worlds to tumble in
swamp the dullness with bouts of sin

the crashing waves of sublime bliss
snapping anchors like mere twigs
arise from depths when reticence
is put aside to live again
to drown would lead to certain death
the little ones are the best

falling far from staid grace
into rapture thought debased
in response the walls arise
reaching high into the sky
seeking mercy from on high
piety grasped instead of life.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191016.