Freedom Under Compromised Knowledge

Unseen zeros and ones in vertical lines,
Of H two six fours written for HTML fives,
Never-ending lefts, finally swiping right,
Blood heats up, and we buy into the hype.

Five a.m. there goes the downpour,
Six a.m. It’s commitments versus dysania.
A blink ago, a whiff of petrichor,
Everybody’s craving a slice of Arcadia.

I battle the truth to justify sin,
Can’t seem to grasp John’s three sixteen,
My heart calcifies, my mind is in a bin,
A weak confession, an absolution ungiven.

Muted prayers, coated in doctrine,
And so free-will leads us astray,
Professing a memorised creed by Nicene,
Watching black and white trample grey.

Back and forth and around we go,
Repeating obscenities for another taste,
Save me your blunt “I told you so.”
I already know the pain of my disgrace.