Sin is a Flower

Sin is a flower
Which grows in the dark
And flourishes without light
Satisfied by the rain of vice
It brings forth a harvest of despair
Drawing strength from weakness
It makes the heart’s soil barren
Fed by quiet assurances of
“No one knows” and
“It will be fine”
It spreads as ivy
Covering the columns of reason
And the gates of caution
Its fragrance fills speech and deed
And with its beauty, it kills
For we admire the petals of poison
And touch the leaves of lies
As the roots reach deep
Twisting tightly around each thought
Invading every space
And in what feels to be the blink of an eye
We find ourselves sinking
Into the ground of too late


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