The Penitent
By GEORGIE STARBUCK GALBRAITH
I Do not go with humble grace
To this tribunal I must face.
Reluctant, cursing, crying even,
I turn my back on cheated heaven.
Through towering lies, profane, uncouth,
I march alone to tell the truth.
I go to tell the truth, afraid
Of that remedial killing blade.
To this tribunal I must face.
Reluctant, cursing, crying even,
I turn my back on cheated heaven.
Through towering lies, profane, uncouth,
I march alone to tell the truth.
I go to tell the truth, afraid
Of that remedial killing blade.