Friday, May 20, 2011

The Night Before Rapture

`Twas the night before rapture and all through the place
everybody was snoring, pillows stuffed in each face.
 The kidlets were trumpeting snores as an art,
learned from their father (with the occasional fart.)

 I sat wired on coffee, at my monitor I stared
with visions of heaven and how I'm unprepared
to be hauled into space on this balmy of nights
to sing with the angels about godly delights.
When what to my rock-deafened ears did give sign
but the Son of God! Jesus Christ! I ain't lyin'!

He smiled as I jostled to delete all my pron
and said, "Too late to worry with all that now, son.
I'm here to tell you to calm yourself down.
Coming tonight? Man, I'm always around!
The guy you called faggot and bullied in class.
The girl you picked on because she had a fat butt (got ya.)
I asked for some help, and you wouldn't buy food.
The old lady that stumbled, and you acted so rude.

"I'm not here to make you feel guilty or lowly.
I'm not here to make you tell me you're not worthy.
I came to bring peace in a world full of war
and tell you what virtues and honor are for.
Not to give you excuses to hate and to maim
or burn those that differ, or kill in the Name.
Don't worry about rapture or when I'll ride through;
just treat others as you want them to treat you."

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