In a world where we have sovereign power (free will) to choose whatever we wish to do, in our fallen nature we have the tendency to choose darkness over light. What we have no control over are the consequences attaching to our respective choices. Some of our choices prune us to bloom, while some lead to eternal destruction.
The unbridled in the spirit continuously add to the bank of their wickedness, unknowingly fattening themselves for the day of their slaughter. The day of reckoning for Rasta, Terminator and Stout dawned with their eyes set expectantly on an attractively glittering mirage.
However, before the dusk could usher in the darkness that often covered the nudity of their evil hearts, they were sizzling literally in a lake of fire as their lives ebbed away in dishonor. However, one smoldering remnant was rescued from the flames, mercifully redeemed to bloom again in dignity.
Hercules on the other hand hang on a different cross but was lucky to have been let go half-naked wading through stinging nettles that set him off in sores to walk barefoot in a territory where the scepter of the wicked reigned every night.
He was pruned off his lust, pride and immorality escaping with his life by the skin of his teeth, reformed to transform the souls and lives of others.
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