UPON THE CROOKED AISLE:
Upon the crooked aisle, my sins were born, my shame taking away, and my faith raptures astray.
Stolen away, many times gone astray; I am the weight in the million paths of the strangest way.
Rigors filled, sorrows choose, Imbibed only to do the pleasures of my spiritually malnourished self.
Pride in anguish, betrayals in vanquish. Yet no trace of an insatiable wants to be set free.
Whence I choose to be made free but still I cherish the independence of such an indispensable joy that my crooked path had laid down for me.
No! What a life! Pleased but not freed. Yet, wish to be eased of all my pitiless plea because I am just the slave of my crooked aisle
I refuse not to wallow in its bliss for what shall it profit me; if I gain all the joy accrued to be made free but yet entangled by its strings of forever bounded stings
Woe betide me not; forever will I choose the weary road, even if it takes me years to work through his desired way, I lay wholly to be slain but my soul to be freed and Over and over let me be purged while I walk through the lonely crooked way.