with iron pens penance is inscribed and diamond points engrave the list of them on your tablets. you were children, adulting atop mounts with green trees. cursed you are, for strengthening your flesh to depart and trust man. damned also, to inherit salty land and inhabit patched places in the desert wild, like that shrub.
you are the dust of dust, worn and ignoble,
evanescent, like the dew of the morn.
who ask,“where is The Word?”
to taunt, revile, persecute and abase,
shutting both ears and stiffening the neck
in despise of instructions from old.
you’ve laid up treasure for yourself for worms,
as if that fool, to your shame!
forsaking The LORD,
the fountain of living waters
my, you are—
fuel to the fires kindled to devour
all that’s nought,
unquenchable in eternity’s hell.
Yours truly,
References:
primarily, Jeremiah 17
in contrast to Luke 10:20
with thoughts of Mark 9:42-49
& the vices of Galatians 5:19-22