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TOO LATE FOR COMPASSION

Lazzrus

 

 

 

 

 

 

By Ken Blue

This story’s about a rich man in well know town.

Each day at his gate, they laid poor Lazarus down.

He begged for the crumbs from the rich man’s store.

Moreover, the dogs came, and licked his sore.

 

Poor Lazarus died, and angels came for their prize.

They carried him to his awaiting paradise.

The rich man died, and was buried with flair.

Angels were absent, but daemons were there.

 

Unseen, the rich man too, was carried to his fate.

He was ushered in, and locked behind hell’s gate.

He begged for water, not a drop received.

No prayers are answered; there is no reprieve.

 

God blessed the rich man, showing compassion on him.   

He had the Holy Scriptures, but he ignored them.

Israel too, had Scripture, they were their pride,

They cared less, a poor man was crucified.

 

Wealth has little value, on one’s dying day.

He walked passed Lazarus, always turning away.  

The key to the story, lay at his gate.  

Mercy withheld, is withheld as one’s fate. 

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