II Hezekiah

Who will hear these lessons from the past?
Who will acknowledge the ruin that awaits?

        I asked, “What must I do to be saved?”
            I have always been faithful.
        I have served Jehovah single-mindedly
            Always doing what pleases him.

        “Set your affairs in order,” replied my Lord,
            “For this sickness is your undoing.”
        I cried, “It is but the summer of my life
            And I may as well be dead!”
        The sum of my work was blown away
            Like a shepherd’s tent in a storm.
        Devastated, I chattered like a swallow
            And moaned like a mourning dove.
        For what could I say in response?
            Jehovah himself has afflicted me with wealth.
        My illness is but blessing and prosperity:
            The last shall be first, and the first… lost.
        I could only walk humbly away
            To bear the burden I have been given.

        But the Lord heard my cries and called,
            “You have not expired yet; come, follow me.”
        This message from the Master is good;
            My sickness has not destroyed me.
        I may finish my barns and empty them later;
            They may even be sacked by strangers.
        My son may be enslaved and sold as a enunch,
            Even, perhaps, become one by choice.
        But the dead cannot praise Jehovah.
            They cannot raise their voices in hope.
        As I still live, for years—even fifteen—
            Surely peace and security shall follow me.

        Think on it! The Lord is always eager to save.
            He will be waiting when I am ready.

The rich are aflame and refuse understanding.
They are consumed and do not heed the lesson.