When life’s paths lead astray
So too do you depart
From that right royal way.
*
To enter the mire
Easier than to change
Swifter into the fire.
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The Prodigal you hate
For fear of the Warm Sun
I might insinuate.
*
Quicker you ever flee
At the first known misstep
Terrified to be free.
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Freedom be damned I say!
From it springs every sin
Upon it guilt I lay.
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No freedom no sin, but
Neither would virtue be.
Words that come from a slut.
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What do you, Man, maintain?
Rape? Lies? Or genocide?
Is freedom worth this gain?
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Is it the “gift”, or us?
One of these be accursed,
Both, surely, end in lust.