Nay, it is not the
Inadequacy of the finite,
To fully conceive
Of the Infinite,
That most calamitously
Hides His love from us:
Yea, our dark, arrant
Profane nature dulls our eyes;
Quelling Divine Light.
Each sin is a bid
To push off and forsake God;
Silencing His call.
Small sins seem harmless:
Yet an opaque veil is woven
Of very fine thread.
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