The puddle of penitence is milky and murky,
Fermenting and gyrating,
Effervescently mutating,
A reminder of berating
Within your grasp the very backbone,
The very impetus of another
The sanction you receive,
You can’t un-bleed a calloused wound
You can’t undo
A lie like a slow perfidy
Why live a life double-taking
Painstakingly paranoid,
Glancing worriedly, walking treacherously
Living in a void,
There’s nothing you avoid but a choice,
To know true bliss,
But an action can be handpicked
One slip and the framework un-clicks
Undone like the thread of a waistcoat
A waisted blow, too late to know
Don’t follow the notion below
Before you know, it’s too late
A thorny gate of ruin,
Where as soon as you pass through:
Too late to chase facts
Too late to undo, too late to retract
Too late to set intact the fractured past
Down a long distorted path of sin
Where it’s too late to take it all back
And who wants that?
Just a race you’ll never win.