A Well Steeped Life
There's a boiling
Hot water in a cup
Enticed by desire
Dipping the tea bag in.
There's a seeping As steam rises up And desire first conceives Giving birth to sin.
There's a drinking Sips small at first But when sin's all grown Death wants the win.
And there's a tasting Bitter or sweet A well-steeped life The last drop's on Him.