Day Of Wrath Poem by Matt Flumerfelt

Day of wrath,
that horrible day
will turn Earth to ash;
so David and the Sibyl say.

What a rumble will go down
when the Judge comes to town
to whom all things are known.

The trumpet,
diffusing an amazing tune
through every tomb on the planet,
will bring all flocking to the throne.

Death and nature
will be suspended
when all mankind resurfaces
to answer the Judge.

A book will be produced
in which everything needed
to judge the world is written.

When the Judge sits down, therefore,
whatever was hidden will appear.
He'll clear his calendar.

What will a peon like me say then?
What lawyer will take my case
when even the just are hardly safe?

King of tremendous majesty
who saves the elect for free,
wellspring of compassion, save me.

Remember, dear Jesus,
I'm the reason for your journey.
Don't forsake me on that sad day.
Seeking me, you sat down weary.
Suffering the cross, you redeemed me.
A laborer is worthy of his pay.

Judge who punishes fairly,
grant the gift of remission
before the day of reckoning.

I groan like someone in jail.
My face burns with shame.
Spare your suppliant, God.

He who absolved Mary
and gave the thief a hearing
has given me hope as well.

My prayers are unworthy,
but Thou who art good,
kindly arrange matters such
that I don't burn in eternal fire.

Prepare me a place among your sheep
and fence me off from the goats.
Reserve me a spot way over on the right.

When the cursèd are thwarted
and with searing flames rewarded,
call me with the blessèd.

I beseech you, kneeling in prayer,
my heart charred to a cinder,
watch lovingly over my final hour.

Tearful the day when guilty man
rises from the ashes
to be judged. Pardon him, then,
O God. Merciful Lord Jesus
give them rest. Amen.