I am not proud
That I stayed my hand,
She deserved my hate,
Her inaction stung,
Malevolence held captive on my tongue,
In bars unsung.

God gave good grace,
To a demon bound,
In leashes to fences of fear,
That refuse that description,

God intervened,
Kept my mind fixed,
And hands clean,
Divine tricks,
To prevent…what some would call extreme.

I am not proud,
That I remained non-kinetic,
Dignity be questioned,
Decadence be much,
I mattered not to her dressed,
In garbs of those honorable men,
But rather the cloaks of the dishonorable,
A boy not a husband.


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