Speaking of my crimes, my black designs
That went astray. My steps in wicked ways;
When it is just lies to talk of love
Such a pretty word for want and lust.
When all along I knew I never had the words
For speaking of the truth, and my eyes just mould
Darkness into a perversion of the light.
And my defence?
My senses were overwhelmed by the reality of you.
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.