The shadow of my treasured conscience
Creeps into the foreground of my mind
Desperate to contain what moves me
I crouch in this neglectful defeat
Unknowing, unwilling to fight it
Wash over me sweet redemption
Cleanse me of this darkness
Trembling indecision dooms my hand
Moving the strands of fate
Strangling, choking against what binds me
Would that I could drown in my convictions
Tragic irony stays my hand and draws me down
Pinned beneath desires unspoken
Would you make of me a martyr
Fit to worship at your feet
Crawling on hands and knees
With little hope of touching heaven
Childlike, you kiss my lips
And sentence me to a thousand torments
Willingly, I place myself under your hand
Disregarding my hard won pride
How small a thing it is
This defeat of my resistance
You bend me so easily to your will
I am undone
© 2003 Kathryn Spears & Jonathan Conley