Possessed by the might of mortality,
Once-prudent man strayed into the forest.
Goaded by devilish curiosity,
He diverged from the safety of this road
Into slovenly jungle of blackened trunks;
Bruising, carousing, the pulverised pioneer
Pursued abomination with inky fascination
Diluted by poisons and potions of fear.
The oily inflection of cursed desire
Was profoundly absorbing, yet deficient
Were the fruitions of beautified feat;
He was always halfway, adrift and astray.
Ambition soon fatigued of eternal chagrin,
Wearied as even duplicity wore thin.
Will was bolstered by tenacity alone,
Ever-unyielding of its earthly throne.
Then hopelessness chimed in to the grievous chant
Which haunted man on his onward step,
Ringing out and in over here and there,
Exploiting his valour and quaffing his pep.
There was but one option for man to choose:
To pivot on the heavy soles of his heavy feet
And return to that which he had left.
If only there was not such a very deep cleft
In his sullied soul. He can never again find
That erstwhile bend, for he thinks he can marry
Again that path, though it was he who tarried in the woods,
He who eloped with the devil.
Deceived by the dreams of his byroad,
His old way lost forever, grace of sin,
His hiatus to Satanic Square prevents him from rejoining the circle;
From without he can only gaze within.
He must now consent to the self-compilation
Of an almanac of maunderation’s motions,
A divulgence of gallivantation;
And offer it in penitent awe to his Judge.
Only then might quondam sin be disentangled,
Compassion superlative to duty
In penance, the barrier lifted clear, and man may progress
Forth again down the road to his destiny.