To. . .

As I pointed out my
lies, the ones I
did speak willingly,
I realize that to
be forgiven totally,
I must learn to be true.
For when I confront God,
I can't just fall down on the holy sod.

I hold my carbon cross
unto my harmful boss,
I see him begin to
unwind without a soul.
Then he blows in through
fingers that unfold
as their lover comes close,
closer than skin to clothes.

The Universe is harmonious.
Every sound is melodious.
Watchmen look out to
see if riders approach
too close for those who
knew what kind of coach
they're ridin' quietly in,
that will mean the end.