We’re dead

We’re dead. We stink.
We love the smell.
Without His Life,
We’re bound for Hell.
Where we will burn
Convicts of sin,
Without return
To Him again.

“Thus so wretched is man that he would weary even without any cause for weariness from the peculiar state of his disposition; and so frivolous is he, that, though full of a thousand reasons for weariness, the least thing, such as playing billiards or hitting a ball, is sufficient to amuse him.” – Blaise Pascal, “The Misery of Man Without God”, 1663

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