by William Thorpe

A taste of passion

Hoping to build a character,

A spirit that does not thirst

But devours all words of reason,

I was destroyed by my own lust

To find that in a sinful world

I stand alone,

To shut down all possibilities

Of things I cannot win,

You told me to live for the world

You told me to cry for the shame,

You told me to look within myself,

And that’s where I found the blame,

We, the people, have become attached

To favorable things to cherish by confusion,

Mixing law and grace to seek,

Misunderstood messages,

Those things whatever they be

Become systematically incorrect

And the taste of passion

Has been denied