Sing To The Sinner

They sing,
Call and wail, quiet and crescendo,
Singing their accusations to those that hear
Ringing through their ears, through their veins, through their bones
Conducted by conscience, the choir sing a song of guilt and regret

The sword of their song cuts the hardened resolve of logic and reasoning,
Of arguments and rebuttals, of rebukes and counter rebuke
Any feigned ignorance or self serving explanation falls away
Drowned by their all consuming song,
And still they sing, all the while they sing
The song immutable in its terror inspiring and awe inducing consequence
Encompassing all who listen and all the while knowing that it sings for them
That it sings for the sinners, and that we have all heard them sing

Never seeing the singers, never touching the singers
Knowing only that they have seen and they know what has been done
Knowing that they sing to torture and to remind,
And still they sing inaudible words and glimpsing melodies,
Showing no compassion they
Sing to those who have called them to play
By action and by deed, by word and by thought
They weave around and hold to any scrap they gather
Binding with the words and the action and holding it all with the one song that persists above all else
Until, deafened to all else, you stand and tremble, and hear only the song that is being sung by
Unidentifiable, innumerable voices
“Confess,” they sing
“Confess and be held in judgment”
Never hearing and all the while understanding
“We know of your sin”