Stricken from crown to chin.
Make the gag cover my vocal spin.
Let the earplugs cut my hearing thin.
A blindfold screwed to my temples let no sight in.
The archangel whispers through the din.
" Is it better to die than to sin ? "
Waging a feud on GREED is high.
Painted enemies, " ENVY !!! " they cry.
With a lance thrust for LUST, its point never dry.
To lean on SLOTH for a maidens sigh.
She served soldiers GLUTTONY pie.
Wine flowed freely and WRATH comes nigh.
PRIDE laughs with dagger at your backside.
The archangel growls, " To sin is to die."
Behold my confessional appointed slot.
Forgive me Father, for I knew not.
Be merciful to me, O God, for I cannot.
Why am I forsaken, to such common lot ?
Peace be still... delivered in a resounding shot.
Death is better than sin, my last thought.