I have sinned against my own

Perception of divinity, the purity

Of symbols that describe the world;

The rain and the sea, the creatures

That are dying in their fields,

While time debases every star—

The acts that human beings consecrate

Are beautiful and base; we choose

The ones that most reflect our deity,

Or choose the ones that designate

Our hell; we know which ones

Would save us; we know

Which ones would certainly corrupt;

This is our purpose, to make

Something beautiful of unnamed

Needs, or else create iniquity;

I have sinned against my soul,

And tried to make some beauty

From the ashes of these words.