Defiled coming down.
It’s the way of men.
No one starts off vulgar—
You learn that.
We live in a fallen world
Where everything is stained;
I see sepia—You see nicotine,
And we shudder to see
What the news will bring…
Mostly the rot of decay.
And that’s why I love flowers:
They don’t succumb
To the entropy of sin
They grow in manure
Through sheer passion
And make something beautiful
Out of ashes
And I suppose that’s why I also create.
I'm innocent still –
Inside me are stained glass windows
That never break.
...Oh, don’t think I live
In a world devoid of dolor—
I don’t…
But when I see Your light
It stains my soul
With color.