Concupiscence

Concupiscence

Would that I could give the seven stones a name

Would that I could write to make my words more plain

For you cannot even try to comprehend

What I mean to on your mind impend.

Stop! Before you speak my words aloud

Ponder what they mean. For I have endowed

Them with a curse or magic spell. They could be as harmless

As pennies in a wishing well. They could be completely senseless

Rhythm. Needless to say; it matters not.

Just be heedful of what leaves your mouth. Since with one word can one be shot

Mind what or when you speak my words; since the pen indeed is mightier than the sword.

Or so at least I say in my intelligent mind; containing such a hoard

Of these weapons. Intelligent! Nay! I beg to differ.

Read into Adam’s Curse. I am fervor-

Ous, but instead and also concupiscent. I prefer to deny

Intelligence; to claim instead my 

Humanity. It is after all far more precious and easier lost.

Concupiscence is Adam’s curse that I am damned with. Most

Accept this, save such few saints who strive to reject

Humanity’s Curse. Sin, it cannot be denied, is a net

That we all save two have been ensnared inside of. Some

Can throw off some of the ropes inside. Such a gift. None

Can claim to be better; since all of us are sinners.

This is a curse that for all of us hinders

Our moving onto betterment. Perhaps it could be

A blessing to help us as well. Sin can help us to see

How frail and weak we are. God! Help us not to

Damn ourselves to hell. None of us can say who

Goes where. We all sin. We are equal. We are the same.

Concupiscence © Elizabeth Wherry, April 2012