The Enigmas of Vice and Virtue
By John Herlihy

Consider for a brief moment
The fickle ways of atonement.
Enigmas lie within vice and virtue,
Vice can sit idly in a church pew,
While virtue can hide under curfew.

Vice can be found in a smile,
While virtue can belie a thing vile.
What about the guilt of innocence,
When but the plaything of pretence.
Then there is sorrow in cruel kindness,
As there is mystery in kind blindness.
Afflictions climb up the attic stairs,
To scare even a timid ghost who dares.

I once knew a saint who gave me the creeps,
While the sinner can be one who truly seeks.
Frequent laughter may occasional joy bring;
Cheerfulness without humor is a trying thing.
Perhaps you can find a secret virtue in lust,
If the body earnestly tries to preserve its trust.
The giant may walk the earth in his stride,
But considers being humble a thing to hide.

The happy man gladly takes a sip of wine,
Only to feel sad with a tendency to pine.
There is virtue in the vice of wearing black,
On guard against death with no going back.
There is vice in the virtue of wearing white,
To be accused of perfect sterility just for spite.
The virtue of shadow lies in its faithfulness,
Lending texture to light’s overwhelming fullness.

Vice lies in the moon’s ability to inspire wonder,
Having stolen the sun’s light as gathered plunder.
There is pathos in the first fault of a baby,
But also the whiff of wrong, no ifs, so, or maybe.
Why even penitence can appear as limpid,
If repentance is lacking, it appears as insipid.
There is innocence in the child’s first sin,
That gains legs on the heels of a whim.

Confusing vice and virtue can lead to woes,
That no one in sound mind can rightly suppose,
Bringing with them unforeseen consequences,
While vices bring with them their own offenses,
Even if some virtue has a draft of recompense.
Still, virtue might hide an elusive fault,
Lending vice a chance that simply grows.
Into a simple virtue no one would oppose.