Sin – many people would prefer not to think of it, many have trouble even discerning what is and isn’t sin, and some folk would even contend that there is no such thing…
Hiding
In the dark cleft
Of sin,
Holding
On to the
Familiar drab,
And
Death-coloured
Comforting,
I prefer
Old habits
Over rehab.
Sight
Accustomed
To the gloom,
My focus
Is blinkered,
Tunnelled.
No thought
For any
Future doom,
Not for me
Are
Church bells knelled.
Drugged
By more than
Alcohol’s charm,
Intoxicated
By every
Passing fad,
I invest
In continual
Self harm,
Aware of good
But
Choosing bad.
Slip sliding away,
The song
Goes:
Too little
And much
Too late,
Love
Shrivelled by
Fearful woes,
My
Best intentions
Out of date.
Despond
Is a
Treacle slough,
Where grace
Fails to find
Momentum:
“You’ll have
Other moments
Than now”,
Thus
Evil’s sleazey
Rule of thumb.
“There
Really is no need
To hurry.
And
Tomorrow is
Another day…
There’s probably
No God,
So don’t worry!
No
Moral guardian
To make you pay!”
In the
Pit
That is my sin,
I can
Find
No way out,
Unless
Another
Can enter in,
Someone
With copious
Mercy clout.
Did
A son of God
Die for me?
The sinless
Suffering
For my guilt?
And did
His passion
Enable mercy,
That Love’s
Kingdom
Might be built?
For He
Comes right
Into our mess,
Unafraid
Of our sin’s
Contagion,
Not for us
To try
To impress:
Our task,
To accept
Redemption.