Dante lost in the Dark Wood by Gustave Doré

Upon a whisper’s thought, an invitation near
Doubt strides in, focus dies forlorn
Peace turns to war; clear becomes unclear.

Monsters of vice return and make me mourn,
That I have done, and what ill I could still do
Tempting me to withdraw all hope of life reborn.

Never will the fairer sex grant me fairness true,
Thus I am condemned by their coldness and hate
So this thought, now many, places in mind’s view.

Recall Our First Parents, godlike in state,
Were told by whisper first to take and eat
To never die, and thus took the serpent’s bait.

Now the enemy devises again to cheat
Saying I must sin in order to be loved
Let my soul fly lies; Jesus and Mary I greet!