Raymond F. Rogers
Sometimes great quandaries know my soul:
I marvel at the silliness of man;
"How," I ask, "can God be in control
As chaos wreaks such havoc in the land?" But rectitude requires I search my soul
For evidence of sin's corrupting sway—
I find that I am not so whole
But that egotistic aims get in the way. Turmoil makes the newscast every day.
Sin is justified: "The right belongs to man!"
The worldly walk the broad, destructive way.