You know what sin is, that scent that is so enticing, but turns to reek over time.

You know what sin is, those images of vulgarity and pleasure, exciting but never fulfilling.

You know what sin is, the touch of another, hot as life and cold as death, never enough.

You know what sin is, the taste of sugar so sweet, leaving you craving more, addicted.

You know what sin is, you hear them praising it every day, saying it is alright.

You know they lie.