A conscience cut down and bleeding out is a thing to be pitied.
It sputters and wheezes with raspy voice;
In spasms, it manages to speak its dying words:
“I warned; you killed. I am betrayed.
Fear not, I’ll no longer hinder. Fool, go your way!”
A moment of exhilaration rises from the depths of your hellish soul:
“I have striven with constraint and have prevailed. No more naive thoughts of morality. I am the law.”
Guilt transforms into ecstasy.
The blush of conviction only deepens the rush of transgression.
Your ears may burn, but your eyes now see.
“All is within my reach. All, I will have.”
Drunk on divine defiance, you’re deceived into delusion.
For pleasure pursued is not satisfaction gained.
The Mocker crows and cackles as he dangles the carrot over burning coals.
He laughs as you grimace.
He commends your courage against the tyranny of the Oppressor, who is so restrictive as to say “Enter through the narrow gate.”
Your indomitable soul declares, “I’ll be conquered by none; I’ll have no other master save my own reason. Better freedom in hell than slavery in heaven!”
With such enlightened thoughts, your great Muse pokes and prods you from the coals of fire into a lake of fire, whose flames never die.
Child, awaken!
See your plight!
You need not die.
Leave off your pride; call out for mercy.
Jesus will bare his feet and come for you;
He will carry you to safety.
Turn and live.
Rest your feet in the healing waters of grace.
A Boy and His Bible 