We shall reflect upon the meaning of our disgrace,
Grasping truth unencumbered by blinded eyes.
Fugitive moments eagerly await the call of memory’s trace,
To stand before the day duly countenanced by obscurity’s demise.
We’ll hasten to discard every cloak and vain disguise,
And submit to all that the interest of honesty requires.
We’ll journey through forbidden caves of deceit and compromise,
Abducting strange thoughts, denuding secluded desires.
Fate guards the door of timeless secrecy to which our crime aspires,
Every path to resistance impeded by overgrown weeds of shame,
Ravished by the guilt that remains long after the fact expires,
We kneel wearily at the feet of judgment, ignominious passions with no name.
We are what virtue has disavowed.
We are what freedom has disallowed.
Art: “Les amoureux aux clair de lune”