Saturday, July 23, 2005


I know those good intentions
that line your road to hell;
you tarted up your hatred
and sent her out to sell
her body to the lusters
after a virgin whore.
They close their eyes and claim
they’ve not seen her before.

I know those good intentions,
I know you pray each night
and give thanks to your god
for telling you what’s right.
Tomorrow is an apple
that hangs in paradise;
Adam takes a bite
and Abel pays the price.

I know those good intentions –
they line your road to hell.
We’ve traveled it too often,
we know our way too well
to still mistake the flames
for the rising sun.
Forgive our good intentions,
Lord, when journey’s done.

Stephen Brooke ©2005

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