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Salt-Fire
Iniquity’s cup is full
Escape for your life, tarry not, nor look behind.
Angels warn of impending doom and destruction.
Flee toward mountains from fiery brimstone hail.
Iniquity’s cup is full
Iniquity’s cup is full
God heard Abraham’s plea to spare Lot,
but ten righteous souls abide not
in Sodom’s den of excessive lust and greed.
Iniquity’s cup is full
Let’s eat, drink and be merry says Mrs. Lot, blend in with neighbors nearby.
Away from vulgar nomadic pitched-tent customs with muck and mire,
where refined culture is abundant; offering citizens for daughters to marry.
Unlike pastoral, old-fashioned and strait-laced ways of old; new is better.
Up! Get you going he urges rhapsodizing wife. Run the city streets with me
and clutch our daughter’s hands. If caught lingering we perish; go quickly
through city gates,open plains to mountains high, finding liberty.
Leave this wicked city, hasten to my stride and run the streets with me.
Almost saved, but not quite
Her heart pines for loose living
in ‘the good old days’ of Gomorrah.
Lagging, the pace slackens, slipping back
Almost saved, but not quite
Almost saved, but not quite
A disobedient furtive glance backward
invokes pelting sulfuric salt-fire
and smoldering ashes of death
Almost saved, but not quite
Based on Genesis 18-19
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