Fall away, far away; you don't belong in heaven.
You shouldn't ever have escaped from prison anyway.
You did not live a godly life, for seventy times seven
Was eighty-nine and hundreds four too many times to say
"Forgiven." Like an animal you hunted for disaster.
You did not know that justice would come hunting soon for you.
Where are the crowns for you to lay before your loving master?
When I saw shackles falling off I did not think it true.
"What now!" I cried in much dismay, for all my stock was missing;
The empty dungeons echoed my depression back at me.
It stayed that way for several days. I locked myself up, wishing
For all of this horrendous silence to return my screams.
I knew that after this I might not ever claim another,
And all that I could do was simply pray (to what?) for one.
But it happened on a Sunday that I found the first newcomer;
How lucky that this one should forfeit mercy sure to come!
And soon they started pouring in, as fast as 'ere before it,
And these I knew were mine to keep and deal with as I would,
Until the Day of Judgment comes and all my host abhor it,
It's really very easy to make "should-nots" into "shoulds."