How unkind the imaginings
of the human heart
how deep the recesses of the soul
a consequence perhaps of Adams’ fall
lest repentance should ever depart
Morpheus cradles the cup of guilt
as the terrors arrive in the darkling night
the horror we see with our eyes shut tight
as we find our refuge beneath the quilt
In these shades and nightmares
we suffer our fate
to err is human, to forgive, denied
the fall of man on the heels of pride
seeks absolution
come too late
