The Vacillation

We hailed "Abba Father"
as we fell into temptation
with both our hands digging deep into the forbidden jar

We chanted hymns of disbelief
as we laid awake on the bed of our sins
under the white sheets of yesterday's declaration
The morning after the fall

We moved to the tunes of broken promises, uninspired
Dancing on flames of hurt
Echoes of silent words
with hands covered with the blood of our indecision

The oil of sin dripped from our crowns
as we sang Bloody Mary to our sorrows
Crucifying every word that once pained us
Nailing them with torment
through the exchange of bodily fluids
as we partook in sexual debates

©S Phohleli 2012/10/03