By Bill Randles
On the fall of a Pornographer:
But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea. (Matthew 18:6)
Hell from beneath is moved for thee to meet thee at thy coming: it stirreth up the dead for thee, even all the chief ones of the earth; it hath raised up from their thrones all the kings of the nations. All they shall speak and say unto thee, Art thou also become weak as we? art thou become like unto us? Thy pomp is brought down to the grave, and the noise of thy viols: the worm is spread under thee, and the worms cover thee. (Isaiah 14:9-11)
How many families have been ruined by your craft?
Rotten and worn through, Your silk is full of maggots
Your so called high life has brought so many so low…
The stench of death was all about you long before you left…
Your very face bore witness
To the decadence which you multiplied
The beautiful people couldn’t see it,
They counted it a pleasure to revel at your decrepit mansion
They proudly numbered themselves among the dead,
At the place of your “parties” were
The “famous” and “celebrated”
The “godless intellectuals” of the sixties and seventies, counted you among their number
Like lusty horses, all lined up to take their part in your house of horrors.
They wanted to party and swing but now the music is gone and the drinks no longer flow.
The surface beauty has given way to jadedness and the mansion itself is squalid.
Most of your guests have already passed on into hell,
You were going to spread the message of Kinsey. (You will see Him there.)
All who truly listened to you have been stripped and desecrated,
The last bit of purity in their souls has been trampled on
Their conscience, which you helped to defile, torments them
The pure and beautiful were your targets to despoil.
Now you have to answer to the Author of Life.
To the inventor of male and female and to
The architect of the families you destroyed.
The one who mourns the loss of innocence and who ties millstones about necks . . . awaits you.
How you will soon rue the face of Holy innocence and purity!
Many of those you ruined are waiting to greet you in Hell
You liberated them from decency and sanity
All of their crimes against innocence and marriage will be required of you forever!
Every family ruined, every child despoiled,
Every young man who went astray by your charms
Is recorded in the books above, soon to be open.
You will soon answer for your part.
God would have forgiven you.
Jesus died for you,
But you were among “the wise,”
Too sophisticated to turn. (You will have to confess Him anyway.)
Now your guilt remains,
You have died in your sins
All that is left is your conscience
And the lust which you incited in so many will consume you now . . . forever.