The Trial

Staggering through wreckage, played and plagued by your own lust,
Serving as your own accuser, breaching your own trust
There must be a penalty for pleasure so immense,
As you draw from staring at the face of innocence.

Dared to gaze upon your person, dared to track your curves,
Dared to use your iridescent glow to heal my nerves
Dared to burn my sorrows on the alter of your smile
Hounded down, subdued and captured: lead me to the trial.