Adrift in a sea
A sea of doubt.
In the desert afoot
Afoot in the sand's of seclusion.

Where is his oceanliner
To pull him from wicked waves.
Where is the oasis
To allow the simple pleasure of a drink.

What of Salvation
Is there no absolution.
Though a deceitful deed
Has pentence not yet been paid.

Was this a proportional price to pay
For his most adulterous acts.
But a sin not of the flesh
Rather a crime against love itself.

Cheated love he had
By not producing the time
By failing to seize its day
By not placing love upon his hand.

Now here he resides
Chained to his demanding debt.
A prisoner barred from love's splendor
In a prison of Loneliness.