Site hosted by Build your free website today!

Too Late

The wind blows cold across the graves,
Of those who died in sin.
Those who died without Salvation,
Never to live again.

Never to walk the streets of gold,
Never to wear a robe or crown,
Never to soar with the angels,
For Satan has pulled them down.

Never to feel, the joy and thrill,
Of the Father's Love and Might.
Never to bask in the glorious glow,
Of God's eternal light.

Never again to know comfort,
Only pain, and misery.
Always to burn in the fires of hell,
For all eternity.

There is no hope for those poor souls,
For them, it is too late.
They will never have another chance,
To pass through Heaven's gate.

They will never have another chance,
To ask forgiveness for their sins.
For upon their death the offer,
Of Salvation did rescind.

It is sad, and tragic beyond words,
The price those souls must pay.
For they will find no mercy,
When they stand on Judgment Day.

These souls of friends and loved ones,
Who are doomed to the fires of Hell,
If they could speak directly to you,
What precious advise they would tell.

They would tell you that God is very real,
And that Jesus died for your sins,
They would tell you to drop to your knees,
And beg for redemption.

For those poor souls it is too late,
There's nothing else that they can do.
But they would tell you, if they could speak,
That it is not too late for you.

As long as you live, it is not too late,
To ask Jesus into your heart.
Once you are safe within His arms,
No power can pull you apart.

So bow your head, fold your hands,
In sincere, and humble prayer.
Commend your mortal spirit,
Into Jesus's loving care.

Accept Him now, before it's too late,
Before your time is at end.
Do not be a poor, wretched soul,
Who died within his sins.

Calvin Hart

Back to Christian Poetry