The Step

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Taking the wrong step is easy,

Given strong enough reasons.

And that is the seed you planted in me,

When enduring injurious seasons.

The darkness in you, an infection indeed.

Your hungry face a malignant boil.

A lancing is needed to purge out the bad,

Excoriate your plague of turmoil.

A defender of women you are not – macushla.

Yet that’s what you claim you once were, aye?

So tell me, how is it, we have come to this impasse?

Where normal decency does not apply?

You delight in being bad and bask in its rot.

All that exists is to purely serve you.

Yet I see a boy who is stuck in the past.

Of a pestilent and foul foggy dew.

One wrongful  step leads to another and another.

The bad deeds of ‘them’ make it all alright.

Your faith in humanity weakens still more so.

Till all you’ve got left in the night…

Is you.

And you… 

And you. And you. 

All of the different versions.

A shapeless month old cadaver lump.

A’ dripping for endless diversions.

So once understood you now are abandoned.

Once respected, your name is now black.

Within the accursed knowledge of all that you should be.

I cannot and won’t have you back.

And just because –  a single misstep.

The one that went more than too far.

But alas…

It was more than this lady would take,

To be treated like I do not scar.

– súil le haghaidh súl

Dedicated to my friend Adam – always there, even when not.

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