J. Scott Smith
So, the interloper is concerned now
That, having secured his stolen bounty,
Another such as he may cross his bow
And steal back from him his tarnished beauty.
I am amused, for this new rogue is me,
Or so it seems he has come to believe.
As if I would retake her, for you see
It was by her consent she took her leave.
He is a thief, of that there is no doubt,
But save by her choice could he enslave her;
Only by her consent to draw her out
Could he secure her and steal her favor.
Still, I find it amusing that now he,
With righteous anger that is undeserved,
Fears I'll do to him what he did to me.
And should I? What a cold dish would be served!
But I was then and forever remain
A better man of more integrity.
Wrong upon wrong does not a right regain,
And the duty to right lies not with me.
So, the interloper I'll never be,
No matter how justified it might seem,
For in the mirror the man that I see
Holds dear this treasure: a conscience that's clean.
Let him rot in his tomb of karmic fear,
Never certain his prize won't slip away.
His fate he has earned, his torment is clear.
Pray God's comfort for others, but his stay.
As for her, strangely I still love her, so
In spite of cause and warrant I cannot
Find solace as consequence works its woe,
And weep as her reward proves dearly got.