The Writers Voice
The World's Favourite Literary Website

The Great Divide

by

Diane Beauton

There was a certain rich man,

Who lived within the city;

Dressed in scarlet and fine linen,

Who would ever pity?



Outside his gate, a poor man lies,

With sores instead of clothes.

To catch the crumbs, before the dogs;

Gnawing at his toes.



The poor man died an empty shell,

No food was spared that day.

Called to Abraham’s bosom,

Angels carried him away.



That same day, the rich man died,

And was buried in the grave.

Tormented soul, he lifted eyes,

Gazing toward the saved.



In the distance far away,

Across a Great Divide.

He saw the Father Abraham,

And Lazarus by his side.



His anguished plea, cried out to him,

Have mercy on my pain.

Send the poor man, Lazarus,

With water to douse this flame.



I’m sad to say, between us,

There is a Great Divide;

Which no man crosses over,

To the other side.



I pray you, Father Abraham,

Send him to my father.

Warn my brothers of this place.

For you it’s no great bother.



Words from the dead, they will heed;

Repent, and turn around.

Abraham it’s not too late,

Go! Before their bound.



I can not come, as I have said,

There is a Great Divide.

They have Moses and the Prophets,

By which they must decide.

Critique this work

Click on the book to leave a comment about this work

All Authors (hi-speed)    All Authors (dialup)    Children    Columnists    Contact    Drama    Fiction    Grammar    Guest Book    Home    Humour    Links    Narratives    Novels    Poems    Published Authors    Reviews    September 11    Short Stories    Teen Writings    Submission Guidelines

Be sure to have a look at our Discussion Forum today to see what's
happening on The World's Favourite Literary Website.