Every man
Has stood at the precipice of decision and consequence
You are not the only soul to make mistakes
Yet seemingly
You have no qualms crucifying me for mine
All the while you shift the blame of yours

I hope one day you may forgive me
For my unwillingness to fall on your sword
Or grovel for the rotten bits of your affection
For in suffering you are not special
You are simply another lost screech into the chasm
Where we all eventually meet again