+ 27.225 MHz 226: When I Am Dead, I Will Not Miss His Sort

Whenever he confronted Splendored Truth

by which his twisted thoughts were proved uncouth,

to which his well-damned soul decined to yield,

he turned tail between legs and quit the field.

Without a saving faith's authority,

and lacking any credibility

(even to thinking prose is poetry)

he violated civil courtesy,

having refused polished refinery,

and gave polite discourse a dastard shove

by thinking that a long festered begrudgement

had qualified him to pass his midjudgement

as to whom others have the right to love.

But Christ's justice, we know, befriends our cause

and brings that old fart to damnation's clause,

before which he will stand, without a Savior---

still tainted with sin he would not confess---

and taste in his constricting throat, bile's flavor

before his headlong plunge into the swell

of Lake Fire (broiling, boiling, bottomless)

where also have been cast both Death and Hell.



Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is about my grandfather's grandfather; whom we now believe, based upon geneaological evidence, to have been my great-grandfather's stepfather, rather than his biological sire.  A self-proclaimed preacher, my grandfather's step-grandfather was refused a call by any local church.  When my great-grandfather fell in love with a local girl whose mother was a former prostitute, the churchless preacher forbade them to marry (although they did anyhow), as he had forbade his son from becoming a farmer rather than preaching (he farmed anyhow), and split our extended family into two branches which, in three short generations, lost contact with and knowledge of each other.  

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