It heals, when it feels, because it fulfills;
A space, in a place, of grace;
This restriction, of a conviction, thus much crucifixion;
A reign, of chain, like Cain;
Twas first, and fast, but cursed;
A moment, in a pavement, of torment;
If only time, could sublime, so I could mime;
Now it’s a sin, to be seen, in the scene;
As sure, as pure, was the cure;
A phantom, even Adam, couldn’t fathom;
Like a bread, from a friend