Your Original Sin

What’s that you’ve settled for? What’s that you say? From the library of excuses You reason away It seems almost this But never quite that As the present escapes And you look further back No comfort to take In that notch on your gun As you fire in vain And continue to run But you say it’s enough It will then have to do You repeat what’s been spoken Never anything new And you look for a club Others thinking the same To plead their excuses Blaspheme and profane But alone in the vestibule A soul fires away And speaks about life And its maxims today His message reoffered But again you look back The last sinners you follow Leaving motherless tracks Your death now committed To the lies that you’ve told And your headstone engraved With letters that scold Once eternity beckoned With your eyes looking up And drawing strength from it You drank from its cup But that story’s been told You’re alone in the ground Scant little reminder You were ever around As your bones become dust To be reclaimed by the wind Those excuses you trusted —your original sin (Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2014)