Contamination

My world is forever contaminated, our marriage bed defiled.
No amount of scrubbing will erase a heart reviled.
From the moment that you strayed the germs of sin crept in.
I can't get red of them, they're everywhere, I see their wicked grin.

For I know they take much pleasure in causing me this pain.
They laugh and say, "We've won this battle." And ridicule with disdain.
"We have invaded your calm little world, your husband has let us in.
To do our damage, break up this home, and in the end we'll win."

So now when I ponder the special things:...a look, ...a touch, ...an act.
I wonder, "Did you do those things with her? Are our special secrets intact?
Did you contaminate the places we called fun or use my special name?
Are they her memories now to possess, are they all hers to claim?"

The smile I've adored all of these years, the soft caress of your hand on my face.
Now no longer, only mine to ponder, I must share in remorse and disgrace.
The sacred act of intimacy that I vowed would always be ours.
I must forever, share with others, for our marriage bed is devoured.

No longer am I justly allowed the sweet luxury of selfishness.
I must share with these women of sin while they contaminate and oppress.
For this is the world I now live in, seeing things you've done with them.
We don't walk alone anymore, we live with our memories condemned.