Getting Ready For Lent

The woman said, "I  received the hidden message.
In reply I must say, my blindness was poetic conceit
Yes, there was the matter of saved seed
Which may or may not have been viable.
That answer remains unknown.
There was also the matter of a spring wound so tight
It seemed it must have release.
Do you understand?
Finally,  I perceived a  cowardice,
And it was not my own.
Now as I limp from the land of make-believe,
I leave footprints of blood.
I chose to delude myself.
There were windows that obscured the truth
And I chose not to close them,
But into every life comes the chance wind
That parts the curtain.