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Poetic Spirit
Wednesday, 8 August 2007


Sin Prose

Brief dreams of grandeur and importance,

Fade with reality's slightest wind;

Indecision and laziness bind my will,

While voices of failure and wrong haunt every decision.


Doubt, fear, ineptness, inferiority, set upon me like a plague;

Imaginary scenarios play out in my mind, producing anger;

Fear of what men can do and have done, I struggle against;

Revenge and hatred knock often on my door.


Then I notice the crimson blood forming a puddle at my feet;

I look up to see a grisly scene---an execution;

Primitive and gory, a slow painful death;

I was one of those chosen; the fine for my crime has been paid in full.


Bought off the slave block, released from death row;

A murderer and criminal set free---a just Man killed in my place;

Yet a second look recognizes not a man, but God Himself;

It's not fair; I deserve to die, not Him.


(written/created by Jeff)

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Posted by Jeff at 3:35 PM EDT
Updated: Friday, 10 August 2007 7:01 AM EDT
Post Comment | View Comments (2) | Permalink

Tuesday, 23 September 2008 - 2:45 PM EDT

Name: "thekingpin68"
Home Page:

Thankfully, God's grace in Christ spares us from the complete impact of our sins.

Monday, 16 January 2012 - 1:30 PM EST

Name: "Jeff Jenkins"
Home Page:

Thank you for your comment, Dr. Murray. Wow, I sure don't check this page very often! Sorry for taking over 3 years to reply to your comment! LOL! 

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