Resolute

To who then do I owe this pleasure,
or this curse, to love a second
long after the first.  I must say
I have towed the line day after day

with no regard to a past ill spent,
but the past is present—I repent.
Now what then do I seek salvation from?
No god or man has talent enough

to make my deeds undone.
Nor even in a dying breath, a lament
shouted towards the sun,
would do sufficient harm or good

to make my deeds undone.
So I ask once more: why tread this path?
There is no reason for my treason
though to warily await each passing season.