Hell is Real!
Screamed the billboard
At highway’s edge,
Bright reds and black,
Captivate my gaze;
The Devil’s colors to be sure.

Nothing before or aft,
To define this message for me,
No mileage signs
In green and white;
Twenty miles to Hell,
You fool.

What does it mean,
I wondered?
Who is it who would be so bold,
To limit the mercy,
Of a merciful God,
And spread fear
In the passing hearts of men?

Is the root of kindness,
Borne of a fear of consequence?
Have generations of righteous men
Left their mark on mankind,
For reasons other than
Goodness within?

Hell is not real,
I think,
Several miles further down the road,
Even though as I recall,
In a life of many years,
I could fill its caverns
Myself.

My God is a God of forgiveness,
With love and mercy
That knows no bounds,
And while the glory endowed,
May diverge
On the spirits of men,
I fear no eternal wasteland,
Tended by such an evil one.

Why then, the sign,
I wonder,
And who might the author be?
Is he truly one who despises,
Sin and hate,
Or rather on Sunday morning,
Will he be passing the plate?