Cast in the Mold of Eternal Flame
The law corrects the imperfections, flaws,
And weaknesses of individuals.
It can’t perfect them. Make as many laws
As you might frame and still residuals
Of cussedness will thrive like tares among
Genetically engineered crops. Tell man
He must control his libido and tongue
And both will show you just how far he can
Get round your rules, the way a bindweed wraps
Its vine and pure white flowers, to defy
Commandments. It’s called free will and it maps
Its own trajectory despite law’s eye.
Catch him! Try him! Punish him and send to
Hell his hot desires! Still he’ll die askew.