The Condemned (Poem)

My Lord, my God, sense my anguish,

when fearing for those following the wrong light.

From where is the compass guiding their staggering sight?

The angel of light is a deluder and relentlessly seduce,

and I stop to stare in dreadful distress as he cunningly reduce.

For there are slews of souls captive in eternally forsaken states,

with an unquenchable thirst for You, behind godless gates.

(May rivers of joy and rivers of peace, flood our flesh and fear cease.)

The reckless rejectors are drawn down the darkest tunnel,

because they chose to be fed through the Tempters funnel.

And the deafening and unbearable screams of the wicked lost;

is the promised destiny, coming at an immeasurable cost.

For it is when Your light deserts the hardened hearts,

that Satan's swindling down the broad road, starts.

(May rivers of praise and rivers of prayer, compel our spirits to embrace Your care.)

The Hourglass is patient, but the approaching burn is sure,

therefore, take heed as the Deceiver of doubters do lure.

Tightening his grip through the desires of the faithless cold;

stealing their mighty marrow and shaping their mould.

This is the life of the depraved, where desolation and darkness reign;

and for unrepentant souls, the punishment will endlessly maim.

(May rivers of wisdom and rivers of worship, overflow our souls and honour Your Lordship.)

The time is near when Your mercy and grace will be depleted,

and names of seekers of sin, from the Book of Death, never deleted.

Therefore, beware the attraction on this tempting highway to hell;

mesmerising the worldly, with the most enticing smell.

Behold how startlingly sudden, judgment on the unjust rendered,

to ravage all hope for souls on which the Enemy tendered.

(May rivers of surrender and rivers of submission, wash away our ignorant disposition.)

My Lord, my God, sense my suffering,

when supplicating for those whom the seperation waits,

seeing You turning tearless from the wailings behind godless gates.

Protect us from the prince of perdition, posing as the angel of light,

as this disturbing deceit, fool multitudes to his lowly site.

And as the souls of the condemned weep in perpetual sweat,

there is agony for the conditions of salvation, that weren’t met.

(May rivers of life and rivers of love, purify the saved's gratitude to One above.)