Tormentingly on ahead
Teasingly in, out
Forest, vague forest, clear for
Life's guiding purpose.
Reflecting, whose good, bad trait
Hobgoblin's throughout.
Stick-hung, let's sway behind whom
But as one doth pose!
The preacher preached a fiery sermon.
Words penetrating the soul like hot coals on fire.
Branding its burning mark of guilt across the hearts
Who seek after sinful desires.
That scratches the soul like prickly thorns and briars.
While Pleasure and temptation tormentingly conspire.
To lead you into the pit of fire.
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