Chaff And Ballast Poem by David Plantinga

My heart is sinking down like lead
Within my chest, and recent grief
Is poisoning my past belief,
Fading, if not discredited.
Perhaps my spirit's just as heavy,
Weighed down by my iniquity.
Sins I will neither hear nor see,
And these misfortunes fall to chevy
A wicked man who has rebelled
Against his Maker and his Lord.
The God whom he had once adored.
An ingrate, he must be compelled.

But if I'm heavy, I should sink,
So let me plummet to my doom,
And let dire punishment consume
A wretch who teeters on the brink.
A sinner, God should cast me down
An ember dropping from the sky,
And in that scorching I may die,
Or in a lake of fire I'll drown.

Maybe, unworthy, I am light,
Like chaff the blowing wind has sifted
And without merit, has uplifted
To whirl into the realms of night.
So if I'm worthless let me fly
To that perdition, to the death
For which I pant with every breath,
Punish the sinner, don't deny
Me the destruction I deserve,
The end for which I dare to pray,
The fate of those who disobey,
Refused to mangled souls who serve.

Am I of iron or of bronze
That I withstand such punishment,
These plagues the wrath of God has sent?
Is this the penalty for wrongs
Committed by a heart so hard
The fires of heaven cannot burn
It down to ashes for an urn,
Blasted by flames but never charred?
If it's surrender that He seeks,
Before the killing blow, I bend,
But if defiance can amend
His mercy, then it's scorn that squeaks.