A Sinner's Born Every Second

On the floor lie the beads

From her rosary

She brings a hand to her neck to feel where they were

The freedom

The bliss

The sensation of being lost for so long

Then found

 

On the floor are the pages

From the Bible she never read

The words she never heeded

The message she never got

 

Torn pictures fall from the walls

As she is liberated from this nightmare

No eyes are watching now

 

Alone

She thinks

Of every sin she can

To complete before dusk

or dawn

or tomorrows end

 

She wants it bad

A sin for every second passed

A sin for every second wasted

 

On the floor lies her past

And the force-fed lies

 

On the floor lies tragedy