Fun Ranting A Spell About Ownership And Guilt

It's Saturday morning, post-shower fun, but I do feel it. It's supposed to be

first stanza: extreme experience indicative of the worst of possibility of our misuse of the gift of life, the stealing of the innocence of someone else's gift of life;

second stanza: a natural inclination to blame someone other than one's self, and the need to have that discharge of stressful energy that accompanies the trappedness of guilt;

third stanza: the gift of life is just that: a gift, an inheritance, and we don't earn any of it, every bit of it in our breath, sight, and experience is gracious from a Source. The culmination of life, present moments, end on end, are, in each moment, freedoms we inherit and thus own. And of course, in being rich as we are, we can misuse the availability our riches afford for evil; and in this case there's a loose tie back to stanza 1, in the misuse the gift of having fingers and loving capabilities to the greediness of lust and stealing an unmarried woman's sexual innocence.

That's all there TO ME, but I understand if it's not picked up.


When the moonshine's as bright
As it'll get for the bright-eyed
Young man's fumbling
Fingers to stumbling
On up a younger one's
Quivering, crumbling, deeply asundered
Innocence,
What then?

Is it you or was it me,
Was it Adam was it Eve,
Or the devil in a snake, coiled up in poisoned hate,
Maybe Alpha and Omega bent on giving freedom
To such a vast estate,
With the devil as a date?

Or was it true that being loved
By someone so rich we could never earn a cent,
Got us greedy,
Stole our senses
Till we started needing
Something other than the grace
Of the light upon our Lover's face
To spend our breath
From out our lungs,
So we chose poverty and death
To break our innocences in theft?