The Ambushed Virtues

The Ambushed Virtues.

Different figures of devourers
In line not as builders,
When day's activities resumes
Each jostling for her juicy portion
Of the unripe grapes,
Alarms of guilty pleasure skipped.

Under key and lock indoor,
The timing for game charming.
In between nose and mouth,
The breadwinner deceived.
A gory sight to the innocent onlookers.

Jaws dropped, tongue clung
To the lip,
When schedules clashed.
The other mate under the other roof caught, among the leagues.
Trust betrayed, empathy beckoned.

Devourers! live them alone to grow;
To take steps in sequence
To take roots like the trees
To take stocks for harvest
Then you can seek their hands,
To climb the corporate ladder.

Breadwinners, plant your seeds on time, in a loamy settings.
So that tomorrow will have decent substitute,
So that old age will not regret.
Virtues will not wane to extinct but wax.

Dear pedoadolesceophile,
Learn to tame your ripe urge
As a timed biological indicator,
Not as a call for indecent exploration
Harnessed instead, towards the ripe grape,
For our virtues to soar till infinity.