Foretelling the future

I can see the sin
sitting on the shoulders
of the old, creating the cracks
in their faces. I compare
them to the young you steal,
those you take so early
in the season,
their perfection a fair glow,
an aura that crackles
its wrapping around their soul,
tell me you choose them
for another reason. I dare you
to lie, to take someone bad
and change their blackness
into white, or into the crystal
clear raindrops of the innocent
young you steal from under
my heart. I know
I shouldn't dare you, I know
that you take what you need
but still, I don't have to like it.
Call it my ignorance
and take them all.