Poetry

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So shallow, the sins of the flesh,
so, so shallow.
Like peering through the wire mesh,
at a face, sickly sallow,
I see the sin that sought a slave,
that sought to lead my sorry soul,
to a ready, gaping grave,
and greedily devour me whole.
I saw the sin that sought to take
my life, my heart my all,
I saw the tongue of the lying snake
that hankered for my fall,
I saw the sin’s skeletal face,
I saw his loathsome skull,
I saw his foul contempt for grace,
in his empty eyes and dull.
How utterly frightful, his awful leer,
that gross and foul, at me,
through the wire mesh did peer
with all his perverted glee.

But through the mesh he could not come,
but yammered madly at my gate,
that to his will I should succumb,
and let him in to my estate.
But staunchly now, refus’d I,
knowing what the beast could do,
for to let him in was for me to die,
while his insatiable appetite grew.
Feeding on my misery, the beast
would swell in size,
on my woe, still he would feast,
‘twas plain before my eyes.
So called I on Him who ‘pon the Cross,
for my sins had died,
who’d borne my shame and my dross,
that God be satisfied,
and came, God’s Son, to my aid,
and made the beast to run,
so well my heart now obeyed,
God’s only begotten Son.

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