The Tele-Preacher’s Curse

No more, thought he, now that he has gotten worse and worse,

Now that he is farther from conversion with his God than ever,

And no longer believing that Christ really loves him,

For he cannot hear him, nor see him, nor feel him,

Nor enjoy any of his blessings, his sinning having gone too far,

His conscience is so sore, that it hurts with every inspection,

He is unable to speak inspired words, for fear of misdirecting them,

Because of his persistent and inward pollution, his lustful affliction,

And now he is feeling more loathsome than a nappy full of shit,

And so must he be in God's eyes also,

For sin and corruption naturally bubbles from his mind,

He is now equal to the Devil in the pollution of his mind,

And sorry is he that God had made him human and not a beast,

He of such a sinful nature, obnoxious before the wrath of God,

And now broken to pieces with it, he desires deliverance,

He is both a burden and a terror to himself, and is weary of life,

But he is afraid to die, and now, he cannot be anyone but himself,

A son-of-god preacher, whose condition is uniquely his own.

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