Not This Night... Couplet of Faith.
I feel the sordid tug of old temptations,
in the sounds of every wayward station.
The glint and click of foaming glasses,
Wild eyes expand at undressed lasses.
The forlorn fervor of :" just once more."
crouched, snickering in each grimy door.
The dirty dramas, too soon played out,
in morning squints and snarling shouts.
The rancid carpets, disheveled rooms,
foster empty chests with pallid gloom.
Lift up your head and watch the clock,
for your soul will soon be in the dock.
Recall little things like aunts and prayers,
Recite one, then two, say them in layers.
He'll forge iron will against the neon lights,
He'll say:"No!" for me. Not me this night.
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