Absolution

Yea, thou cometh before me once too oft’. For I am charged to cast thee in Bridewell. Thy audience pleases with voice so soft; Shall I divide the child to make all well? Lest thou enamor me I have no choice, 'Tis not I but my throne has been defiled. Whereby thy pleas cometh in soften voice, And black begets white as mouths spew wild. Thy ‘sblood in kine hast bid me prevalence; The road to hell, paved with good intentions. To wit; thou hast spake thy benevolence. You seek the grace of my interventions, Yet umbrage admits to Gods’ lower world. I shall thole thy thistles with love unfurled.