Mea Culpa

I who speak so oft of love

oft chew the bitter rind

of what the fates left above

drowned canyons of a mind...

and I who speak so oft of peace

do battles full fierce start

with foes my fears offer lease

as wardens on my heart...

and I who speak so oft of hope

despair will hang for blinds

around the truths I can't dismiss

of wounds time ne'er will bind...

and I who speak so oft of free

wear chains of clan and kin

shackled every morning sun

compassions' brutal whim...

and I who speak so oft of dreams

oft ration sleep to parts

that bodies rest be not the line

where nightmares' race will start...

and I who speak so oft of life

roll life like dice benign

that tumble up a tiny score

against deaths' running line...

and I who speak so oft the code

of logic sans Descartes

amend my days to hold the way

Pray God will take my part.