Original Poem: Is It Time To Come Home, Lord?

Is it time to come home, Lord? Have I done all that I can?
You gave me the voice. You gave me the drive.
But no one will listen. They are blind if they thrive.
They don’t sense the Evil that gives toys and drugs minds.

Young people are covetous; they want more; yet even when poor, they are idle.
They want others to supply their needs—to grant them their desires.
Young women kill babies in their womb; they want pleasure—not the pain.
They don’t understand their loss—don’t know how much they’d obtain.

Corruption rules this world now—through envy, hate, and greed.
Our leaders flaunt their power, while their hungry cry and plead.
Supremacy is their motive, o’er the people, and for fame.
They’re Almighty in their mirrors—sashaying with evil gain.

Each country is in chaos. Mobs destroy—blood runs in streets.
Despots bomb and kill those who protest, to maintain their dominance.
The poor want equal wealth as those who worked and toiled for years.
If not, greedy leaders will steal it—and make poor and rich simply peers.

Earthly crises are mounting too, Lord—are they reprimands for our sins?
Earthquakes, tornadoes, floods and volcanoes—do they warn of a fiery end?
We’ve been told of these horrors before, Lord, but many doubt Your Holy Birth.
They’d have to forego self-indulgence, and honor You as their Savior borne.

We must fall to our knees and pray, Lord—acknowledge we are Your creations.
“Revelations” in the Holy Bible, the Mayans, and Nostradamus, too,
Told of plagues and fiery monsters to come. They’ll destroy those who won’t repent.
Those who don’t admit their guilt or sins will soon reap what they have sown.

Photo credit: biblevector (Creative Commons)