Countless horde, await your day.  Sleep your restless sleep.  Your time has come to an end in the midst of your desire.  Warned, you continued on, mindless of what was coming.

Now what is your complaint?  Will you complain that your dreams have been stolen?  Will you desire vengeance for the plans which never found root?   Will you complain regarding your current home; the darkness of your grave consumes you.

Those who remain in the Land of the Dead morn your passing.  But they will soon join you, it is inevitable.  These, who still strive against the Gospel of Christ, make their plans just as did you.  They live as animals waiting for the slaughter.

“More grass,
more water,
more steps to take.
More air to breathe,
more sleep to take.”

To whom do you address your complaint?  Do you despise the world because it did not give you your desire?  Do you blame death because it has brought you to his house?  Did you not know it was his intent?  So now your dark heart, in your dark home, rails against the Land of the Dead?

Perhaps your greed provokes jealousy.  For God lives in his brilliantly lit Palace of Righteousness.  All the while His Holy Law has placed you where you are.  Stripped of your gain he has said, “Enough!”  And now your hands are forced to cease their work.

Your place of residence tells something about who you are.  You did not desire the will of God.  You desired the will of your own wickedness.  You have not loved righteousness and hated wickedness.  You have desired all that is evil and hated what is Good.

In your end, even now you hate the one who made you.  So be it!  What is yours belongs to you.  What is His belongs to Him.  Yours is death, destruction and End.  What is His is Life and Praise and Eternity.

Now your complaint is mixed with tears that have no water, desiring to fall from eyes which cannot see.  For you know those you knew in the Land of the Dead.  You know they too will soon join you.

Your silent complaint will fall on deaf ears as you mingle together as one group.  You would not listen nor would you teach.  Now you have been assigned your rightful place.

So be it!  Await your destruction with forced patience.  You will work the work you are now forced to endure.  The command has arrived, “Lay still and await the Holy Fire which will consume you.  You will receive the wages due to your greed and praise of self.”

Cut short!  Cut short is he who hates the Lord.  Stopped in the midst of stride.  Errant desires obliterated.  A multitude of shining days reduced to the deepest of darkness.  You are but Fuel to flames; ashes of ethyl substance, yet to become.

Be wise and listen, you who now thrive with self-purpose in the Land of the Dead.  Hear the unspoken testimony of those whose lips are sealed.  Take note of their plight for it will soon be yours.