Ignore yet cook man does this world
By hands his own, his fate is hurled
Into a furnace where fires burn
Alone basting in sin we churn
The chef prepares all souls tender
Prime rib, each cut he knows will render
Another soul, taking their turn
In life sinful, this sad slow burn
Amazing how this dish turns out
The you GOD made, written about
Not by us, but in scripture
Of sinful men, missing the Rapture
He need not fry or marinate
Or stir aimless and saturate
Upon a pan or pot he cooks
As CHRIST did pay and sin his took
Slow burn, slow churned it doesn't matter
They both will birth a Hell much fatter
With you the next in line who spurned
Stewing in life, slow burn, slow churned
