A Letter From Hell
Page 1 of 1
A Letter From Hell
(Taken from a sermon written by Steve Irre)
Dear mom,
I'm writing to you from a most horrible place
that I have ever seen or heard!
More horrible than you could ever imagine.
It is black here!
So dark I cannot see all the people
I am constantly bumping into.
I only know they're people like myself
by the blood curdling screams that I hear.
My voice is gone from my own screaming
as I arrive in pain and suffering.
I cannot even cry for help anymore,
and it's no use anyway.
There's no one here that has any compassion
at all for my plight.
The pain and suffering from this place
is absolutely unbearable!
It so consumes my every thought.
I would not know if there was any other
sensation to come upon me.
The pain is so severe it never stops, day or night!
The turning of days does not appear
because of the darkness.
What may be nothing more than minutes
or even seconds
seems like many endless years.
The thought of this suffering continuing without end
is more than I can bear!
My mind is spinning more and more
with each passing moment, dear Mother.
I feel like a madman!
I cannot think clearly under this load of confusion.
I fear I'm losing my mind!
Mom, the fear is just as bad as the pain.
Maybe even worse.
I cannot see how my predicament
could be any worse than it is,
but I have a constant fear
that it might be so at any moment.
My mouth is parched, and will only become more so.
It's so dry that my tongue clings to the roof of my mouth.
I remember that old preacher in that church saying
what Jesus Christ endured on that old rugged cross.
There's no relief, Mom!
Not so much as a single drop of water to cool my tongue.
To add even more misery to this place of torment,
I know that I deserve to be here.
I'm being punished justly for my deeds.
The punishment, the pain and suffering
is no worse than I justly deserve,
but admitting that now will never ease the anguish
that burns eternally from my wretched soul.
I hate myself for committing the sins,
to earn such a horrible fate!
I hate the devil that deceived me
so that I would end up in this place.
As much as I know it an unspeakable wickedness
to think such a thing, I hate the very God
that sent His own Son to die for me,
that I may not come to this place of torment.
I could never blame the Christ of Calvary
that suffered, bled, and died for me.
I hate Him anyway!
I cannot even control my feelings
when I know they're wicked, wretched and vile.
I am more wicked and vile now
than I ever was in my earthly existence.
Oh Mother,
if only I had listened!
Any earthly torment would be better than this!
To die a slow agonizing death from cancer,
to jump out off the 40th floor of a burning building,
like those who died on September 11th,
but to choose those over my present fate,
I have no power.
I do not have that choice.
I now understand that this torment and suffering
is what Jesus bore for me.
I believe He died to pay for my sins,
but His suffering was not eternal.
In three days,
He arose in victory over the grave.
Oh, I so do believe!,
but alas it is too late.
As the old invitation song states,
I remember hearing so many times.
"You came, but you came one day too late."
We are all believers in this terrible place,
but our faith amounts to nothing.
It's too late!
The door is shut.
The tree has fallen,
and here it shall lay in Hell forever lost.
No hope, no comfort,
no peace, no joy.
There will never be any end to my suffering!
I remember that old preacher
as he would read from the book of Revelations.
"...And the smoke of their torment ascended
up forever and ever."
They had no rest day or night,
those who worshipped the beast in his image.
There is no peace!
No peace saith my God to the wicked.
For the wicked are like the troubled sea when it cannot rest.
Whose waters cast dirt and mire.
There's no peace to the wicked!
The worst thing about this place, Mom, are my memories!
I remember the church services...
the invitations...
I thought they were so corny,
so stupid and useless.
I used to sit in the back and hide my face
while I laughed at that old country preacher.
I thought he was a fool!
I see things different now Mom.
Now that I had a change of heart,
it matters nothing at this point.
I have lived like a fool.
Dear soul,
I'm talking to someone tonight.
I don't know who you are,
but this boy here says I lived like a fool.
I pretended like a fool.
I played church like a fool.
I died like a fool God,
and now I have to suffer
the anguish of a fool forever.
All by myself.
Just to stroll through a green meadow,
smell the beautiful flowers,
stopping to take in the fragrance
of their sweet perfume.
There's no flowers in Hell, mom.
I long to see one of those little innocent babies
that just used to aggravate me,
Now I'd love to see their cherub-like faces,
but there's no babies in Hell.
Mom, there's no Bibles in Hell.
No Bibles in Hell, mama!
The only scriptures inside these charred walls
are those that ring in my ears hour after hour,
and moment after miserable moment
that I remember being preached,
as that old preacher hammered the pulpit,
and preached under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost.
Oh, Mom,
they offer me those verses no comfort at all!
They only serve to remind me
of what a fool I have been!
Mom, if it wasn't for the futility of them all,
you might rejoice to know
that there is a never ending prayer meeting here in Hell.
No matter!
There's no Holy Spirit to intercede on our behalf.
The prayers are just empty and dead.
They amount to nothing more than cries for mercy
that we all know will never be answered.
Please warn my brothers, mom!
I was the oldest.
I thought I had to be tough.
Please tell them there's no tough guys in Hell, mama.
Nobody's cool in Hell.
As terrible as this place is, mom,
I see it's my final destination.
Satan laughs at us all here,
and his multitudes join us continually in his misery.
We are constantly reminded
that one day in the future,
we'll all be summoned up one by one
to stand face by face by the God
that we have offended by our unholiness,
by our wickedness,
by our thoughts and deeds, and attitude.
And as we stand before Him,
we'll be judged by our own wicked works.
By those things written in the books,
and then thrown into the lake of fire!
Saying Amen to our own condemnation,
just before we're cast into the lake of fire.
We will have to look on the face of Him,
who willingly suffered the torments of Hell,
that we might be delivered from them.
The Lamb of God,
that came to take away the sin of the world.
As we stand there in His holy presence
to hear the pronouncement of our own damnation,
You'll be there mother, to see it all!
Please forgive me for hanging my head in shame,
as I know that I will not be able to bear to look upon your face.
You will already be conformed into the image of the Savior,
and I know it will be more than I can stand.
I'd love to leave this place,
enjoying you and so many others
I have known on earth.
But I know that will never be possible,
since I know I can never escape
the punishment of Hell
that I rightly deserve.
I say this with tears,
with a sorrow and deep despair
that can never be completely described.
I never want to see any of you again!
Please don't ever join me here in eternal anguish!"
Your son,
Condemned and lost forever.
Dear mom,
I'm writing to you from a most horrible place
that I have ever seen or heard!
More horrible than you could ever imagine.
It is black here!
So dark I cannot see all the people
I am constantly bumping into.
I only know they're people like myself
by the blood curdling screams that I hear.
My voice is gone from my own screaming
as I arrive in pain and suffering.
I cannot even cry for help anymore,
and it's no use anyway.
There's no one here that has any compassion
at all for my plight.
The pain and suffering from this place
is absolutely unbearable!
It so consumes my every thought.
I would not know if there was any other
sensation to come upon me.
The pain is so severe it never stops, day or night!
The turning of days does not appear
because of the darkness.
What may be nothing more than minutes
or even seconds
seems like many endless years.
The thought of this suffering continuing without end
is more than I can bear!
My mind is spinning more and more
with each passing moment, dear Mother.
I feel like a madman!
I cannot think clearly under this load of confusion.
I fear I'm losing my mind!
Mom, the fear is just as bad as the pain.
Maybe even worse.
I cannot see how my predicament
could be any worse than it is,
but I have a constant fear
that it might be so at any moment.
My mouth is parched, and will only become more so.
It's so dry that my tongue clings to the roof of my mouth.
I remember that old preacher in that church saying
what Jesus Christ endured on that old rugged cross.
There's no relief, Mom!
Not so much as a single drop of water to cool my tongue.
To add even more misery to this place of torment,
I know that I deserve to be here.
I'm being punished justly for my deeds.
The punishment, the pain and suffering
is no worse than I justly deserve,
but admitting that now will never ease the anguish
that burns eternally from my wretched soul.
I hate myself for committing the sins,
to earn such a horrible fate!
I hate the devil that deceived me
so that I would end up in this place.
As much as I know it an unspeakable wickedness
to think such a thing, I hate the very God
that sent His own Son to die for me,
that I may not come to this place of torment.
I could never blame the Christ of Calvary
that suffered, bled, and died for me.
I hate Him anyway!
I cannot even control my feelings
when I know they're wicked, wretched and vile.
I am more wicked and vile now
than I ever was in my earthly existence.
Oh Mother,
if only I had listened!
Any earthly torment would be better than this!
To die a slow agonizing death from cancer,
to jump out off the 40th floor of a burning building,
like those who died on September 11th,
but to choose those over my present fate,
I have no power.
I do not have that choice.
I now understand that this torment and suffering
is what Jesus bore for me.
I believe He died to pay for my sins,
but His suffering was not eternal.
In three days,
He arose in victory over the grave.
Oh, I so do believe!,
but alas it is too late.
As the old invitation song states,
I remember hearing so many times.
"You came, but you came one day too late."
We are all believers in this terrible place,
but our faith amounts to nothing.
It's too late!
The door is shut.
The tree has fallen,
and here it shall lay in Hell forever lost.
No hope, no comfort,
no peace, no joy.
There will never be any end to my suffering!
I remember that old preacher
as he would read from the book of Revelations.
"...And the smoke of their torment ascended
up forever and ever."
They had no rest day or night,
those who worshipped the beast in his image.
There is no peace!
No peace saith my God to the wicked.
For the wicked are like the troubled sea when it cannot rest.
Whose waters cast dirt and mire.
There's no peace to the wicked!
The worst thing about this place, Mom, are my memories!
I remember the church services...
the invitations...
I thought they were so corny,
so stupid and useless.
I used to sit in the back and hide my face
while I laughed at that old country preacher.
I thought he was a fool!
I see things different now Mom.
Now that I had a change of heart,
it matters nothing at this point.
I have lived like a fool.
Dear soul,
I'm talking to someone tonight.
I don't know who you are,
but this boy here says I lived like a fool.
I pretended like a fool.
I played church like a fool.
I died like a fool God,
and now I have to suffer
the anguish of a fool forever.
All by myself.
Just to stroll through a green meadow,
smell the beautiful flowers,
stopping to take in the fragrance
of their sweet perfume.
There's no flowers in Hell, mom.
I long to see one of those little innocent babies
that just used to aggravate me,
Now I'd love to see their cherub-like faces,
but there's no babies in Hell.
Mom, there's no Bibles in Hell.
No Bibles in Hell, mama!
The only scriptures inside these charred walls
are those that ring in my ears hour after hour,
and moment after miserable moment
that I remember being preached,
as that old preacher hammered the pulpit,
and preached under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost.
Oh, Mom,
they offer me those verses no comfort at all!
They only serve to remind me
of what a fool I have been!
Mom, if it wasn't for the futility of them all,
you might rejoice to know
that there is a never ending prayer meeting here in Hell.
No matter!
There's no Holy Spirit to intercede on our behalf.
The prayers are just empty and dead.
They amount to nothing more than cries for mercy
that we all know will never be answered.
Please warn my brothers, mom!
I was the oldest.
I thought I had to be tough.
Please tell them there's no tough guys in Hell, mama.
Nobody's cool in Hell.
As terrible as this place is, mom,
I see it's my final destination.
Satan laughs at us all here,
and his multitudes join us continually in his misery.
We are constantly reminded
that one day in the future,
we'll all be summoned up one by one
to stand face by face by the God
that we have offended by our unholiness,
by our wickedness,
by our thoughts and deeds, and attitude.
And as we stand before Him,
we'll be judged by our own wicked works.
By those things written in the books,
and then thrown into the lake of fire!
Saying Amen to our own condemnation,
just before we're cast into the lake of fire.
We will have to look on the face of Him,
who willingly suffered the torments of Hell,
that we might be delivered from them.
The Lamb of God,
that came to take away the sin of the world.
As we stand there in His holy presence
to hear the pronouncement of our own damnation,
You'll be there mother, to see it all!
Please forgive me for hanging my head in shame,
as I know that I will not be able to bear to look upon your face.
You will already be conformed into the image of the Savior,
and I know it will be more than I can stand.
I'd love to leave this place,
enjoying you and so many others
I have known on earth.
But I know that will never be possible,
since I know I can never escape
the punishment of Hell
that I rightly deserve.
I say this with tears,
with a sorrow and deep despair
that can never be completely described.
I never want to see any of you again!
Please don't ever join me here in eternal anguish!"
Your son,
Condemned and lost forever.
A Letter From Hell
Johntheservant- Christian Talk Member
- Mood :
Number of posts : 87
Age : 43
Location : USA
Registration date : 2008-12-14
Points : 27987
Reputation : 4
Country :
Warning :
Similar topics
» Letter From Hell
» A Letter From Jesus
» THE LETTER OF ARISTEAS
» Love Letter From God
» Letter of Jeremiah
» A Letter From Jesus
» THE LETTER OF ARISTEAS
» Love Letter From God
» Letter of Jeremiah
Page 1 of 1
Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum