All Is Not Well, Even So…

O my Soul, do you feel this inward shuddering at the Sins of others?

Those odious manifestations of horrid darkness resting `neath a path strewn with the foul blossoms of falsehoods… that wretched blackness that I know all too well.

Sin. Sin has a way of finding its way into the light of day. Sin can be hidden for a Season but foul deeds ever shall arise, though all the earth o`erwhelm them to men`s eyes.

A man takes upon himself the sacred mantle of a minister, a pastor, a shepherd… and yet his wits grow numb to the still small voice of conviction (indeed, if any such voice were ever there in the first place) and his ears echo with lauds and praises… his eyes are enchanted by the works of his hands, and slowly… slowly, his lusts begin to swell with his appetites. Temptations not resisted, Sin`s full poisonous flower. Death.

All is not well in this land of seas from shining seas, and the great mammon gods of dollar signs and “one million baptism” quotas cannot fight this evil. I consider within my intuitions that these sordid revelations are but the surface shard of a submerged iceberg that drags the ocean floor. All is not well.

If there was before, there is no question now… the swine have the appearance of lambs and some of the seeming lambs are but guises for the swine – and is growing increasingly impossible to tell which is which.

For far too long… the money-changers have run the temples, fleecing the flock and birthing two-fold children of Hell in their toothy-grinned hypocrisies and limp-wristed milquetoast homilies to polite gentlemen`s ethos.

For far too long… the ruddy-jowled politicos have treated His bride as their whore, with smooth buttered lies upon lies while men`s Souls are bought and sold… The way is shut. It was made by those who are dying… the way is shut.

All is not well. There is nothing new in these dark days, and ancient days were certainly no better than these… `tis but the same old story – second verse, same as the first.

“…though there be those who hate Her,

and false sons in Her pale,

against both foe or traitor,

She ever shall prevail…”

Even so, it is well with my Soul.

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