For now they perch on my doorstep
with tear filled vigor and remorse
pleading,  little earth worms looking
on in my eyes trying to force
their seed in my heart... demireps
and lechers crying in their ash.

A monk's resolute howls draw near.
I close my shutters to the wind.
An infantile pitter patter
brings resolution to my pane.
I look out upon the tattered
remains of man; I soon realize
it is not them, but I who's sinned