Two Vows

“We each have a niche in this universe,
We’re center stage in the plays of our lives,
And his written canon won’t be perverse
For ‘tis immutable one never strives.”
This blasphemed promise was assured to me:
That miracles would lift me from the grave;
Instead, Death scoffs, my demise, he foresees,
For my covenant has rendered me a slave.
With one last promise the curtains were drawn
On the light and the life of the garden;
His canon of hope and faith is foregone;
My transgressions are never forgiven.
            My final vow subjugates me once more;
            My fate and naivety, I deplore!


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