Righteous man

Righteous man

If I could follow God’s great plan,

I’d be a selfless, righteous man;

Renouncing any tempting goal,

I’d save my long corrupted soul,

And passing through the needle’s eye,

Behold the highest of the high;

There to rest where God did sow,

Gardens, through which rivers flow.

If I could shun material things,

Resist the pull of Satan’s strings,

Be immune to avarice, lust,

And all things destined to be dust,

Will I, upon the end of days,

Have angels speak of me with praise?

Or will, in want of sage advice,

My pleas for clemency suffice?

Righteous is the one who fears,

The dawn of fifty thousand years,

For on that day the dead will rise,

And enter hell or paradise,

According to the lowest height,

When scales have measured left and right,

And it will be well understood,

That left is bad and right is good.

I’m not following any plan,

I’ve never been a righteous man;

Is Satan real? Does God exist?

My goal is pleasure, I insist!

And even if I could endure,

And face the final judgement pure,

The doubts that none, save God can see,

Would likely void my guarantee.