Your Forgiveness

This game we play:
Who is Justified and who’s Condemned?
I give up; I let you win—
Now let your Burdens go.

Each one the shape of a small, sharp Stone.
Not laying them down, you let them fly.
As each one hits, I remember—I think:
I give up; I let you win.

Each one draws Blood, these Stones you throw.
I sink much deeper—deeper—into the Mud.
The Dirtier I become, I remember—I think:
I give up; I let you win.

I remember—I think:
Perhaps Mud mixed with Blood
will convince—
You have been Justified.