Funny, the part, that all mankind plays, to our End,
Some, not Funny, as Survival, can well be our Friend,
Many of the Unsaved, will manage to survive, Tribulation,
To, Repopulate Earth, in Millennium, as God’s Last Nation.
(So, Now, Make your Choice, as to your Eternal Station)
Without a Casket
By Arley Steinhour 041618
I just clicked on a message to me,
About the News, that’s flying Free,
R. Lee Ermey, ‘Gunny,’ of Movie,
‘Full Metal Jacket,’ we’ll no longer See.
He just died, at age, Seventy Four,
April Fifteen, Two Thousand Eighteen,
No other information lays at the Door,
Except, born, March Twenty-Four, Forty-Four.
Born toward the End, of World War ‘Two,’
A War, born in Infamy, by Germany and Japan,
Italy joined in, to Scavenge, World-Through,
Atrocities Committed, with Wave of a Hand.
‘Wave, to the Right, ‘The Ovens;’ Left, ‘Slavery, or More,’
The ‘Door Posts,’ of his life, in the ‘Land of the Free,’
At a ‘Tender Young Age,’ he joined the Marine Corps,
Much as I almost did, to be better able to have ‘Esprit.’
The ‘Gunny’ converted, the Souls of so Many,
In his Role as the ‘Gunny,’ in ‘Full Metal Jacket,’
Injection of ‘Esprit,’ into ‘Souls, Without-Any,’
Produced, an ‘Attitude of ‘CAN-DO,’ Without a Casket.’
His Nasty Demeanor, Generated Rebellion,
From the ‘Tree Hugging Crowd, without Fail,
They thought him crude, and even a Hellion,
Not knowing, his teaching, is as ‘Man’s Holy Grail.’
God/Jesus explains, time and time again,
If we don’t survive, it may be the End,
Yet, Prophecy, says we’ll endure the Pain,
With Proper leadership, on which to Depend.
Men, like R. Lee Ermey, that’s ‘Gunny at heart,’
Though, Rough and Callous, are Playing a Part,
In the ‘End of Time,’ when Satan, Plays, his Part,
In ‘Tribulation, and Shame, to the Unfulfilled Heart.
You may have an answer, you might even Curse,
The words that I OFFER, in my Poetic Verse,
‘Every Blade of Grass, need a man, this Terse,
That, Land of the Free, not suffer God’s Wrath, and Curse,
Farewell, to you ‘Gunny,’ I pray you’re with Jesus our God,
No longer may you curse, and no longer endure any Rod,
But, many, I believe, that you’ve helped, will dip Fingers,
To wet your lips, if in Hell, as Eternity, Eternally, Lingers.