He played the serpent
and I fell. But can I now hand you this apple?
He forgot to mention how the bitterness of knowledge
sours your mouth.
And shall I offer
what I know will cause pain,
on top of this gaping wound?

How can I choose,
when the lesser of the two evils,
that blinding ignorance, has already cost
a life you held too dear.
Is it really better
to let the ten guilty escape,
than one innocent to suffer?

Absalom, O Absalom,
O my boy, my son;
would that I could die for thee,
to lift this burden from your back.
But what have I already cost you,
in this foolish trap I wrought myself,
and could not bear to break free?

And even now,
when the doubt clouds my mind,
the grief, the shame you feel I share;
the badge of my failure.
For I had not
the courage to tell you, to place this last load.
When did your shoulders grow so strong?