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.