I had allowed the world to ensure me.
Allowed myself to prophsie excuses
where I excused sin to give into its allure,
Letting the seven deadly sins become my muses.
I allowed myself to spurt out excuses,
where I thought prayers would
not allow the seven deadly sins to become my muses.
Where salvation would make the sins become good.
I thought that prayers would
excuse my absence from church on Sunday.
Where salvation could make my sins good.
But regret became my crucifixion the following Sunday.