A Feigned Remorse

Zophar finds Job's penitence insufficient.

You’re crying out against your sin

Because you’re standing on the shore

Aware your guilt is so much more

Than your acknowledged ramekin.

An ocean of iniquity

Extends to the horizon’s edge,

Farther than shamming can allege,

Deeper than faked hyperbole.

Frightened, you’re dipped a ladle in

And drawn a spoonful from that sea

Unwashed, that liquid is your plea,

Sin-spattered, it’s your lanolin.

Propitiating by the less

You take a slighter punishment

And by your groveling prevent

The consequence of sinfulness.

That inundation you so fear,

And try to duck by feigned remorse,

By screeching curses till you’re hoarse,

Accumulates from every tear

The truly penitent have wept.

The measure of your filth exceeds

The dust and ash of ranted screeds.

But look, your pathway back is swept!

The Lord has fathomed the abyssal

Where your iniquity has pooled,

And all-forgiving, He has ruled

Sincere acceptance is dismissal.

When you admit what you done

The shame and anguish of the sting

Hurts more than present suffering,

But bitter, that confession’s won

Forgiveness. All your blemishes

Are cleansed; the tainted becomes pure

In innocence that will endure.

Grace pardons when it punishes.