I am a sinner

I am a sinner

of wicked intent but

poor execution.

I am a master craftsman

shaping with soft hand and

crushing with hardened fist

I was a saint

called to follow righteousness but

traipsed the wrong path

A path to liquid gold

bathed in red and purple

a dull ache to match

it was never mine to take

a painful awareness that

I am my actions

Not my intentions

truth drips then

loose lips

go forth to

sink ships

judgment day

and I am told

what I already know

I am my wrongs

I have no rights

I rose by sin and

by virtue I fall