Judgment

America, oh, America

Land of the once free

Home of the formerly brave

Storms at your gate

Blazing sun, wind blown fires

Still you are proud

Beat your chest will you?

Fight those God empowered to wound you?

To wake you from your insanity?

Still you murder your babies

For money, for convenience

And those who would lead

Like boys in the school restroom

Brag of who has better hair

The Almighty is not amused

He is broken-hearted for you

That you are murdering your inheritance

The Civil War was flatulence in the wind

The Depression a sneeze

Puny next to what is upon you

A gaping maw of carnage and shame

Oh America weep!

Won't you weep, humble yourself!

Why worsen the blow?

The Almighty's hand is upraised

Raised to strike

To deliver redemptive but stern discipline

But it belongs to One who is merciful

Tens of millions of babies sacrificed

How can he show mercy

When you show no remorse

Stephen Pursell, 9/04