The Last Days of Limbo

by Daniel Thomas Moran

MANY years ago, into my childhood's ears,
Were whispered epithets and fears.
But not one could terrify so well,
As that place just slightly less than Hell.
For unmeasured time would I regret,
While in Limbo I did pay my debt.

By the grace of a God
Inclined toward the infernal,
A sentence long but not eternal.
Those dour nuns so to not confuse,
Declared it for un-baptized babes and Jews.
While their tiny faiths prayed The Lord might think,
To one day snap them from the brink.

Still we perceived Forever either up or down,
Imagining Limbo just outside of town.
Where were warehoused the souls of the disabused,
And all the babies The Savior had refused.

Now the Holy See has some second thought,
About this quasi-hell The Good Lord has wrought.
The Pope and Cardinals have all but surmised,
That the whole concept was likely ill-advised.

But for now we will just have to wait to see,
If they will make the call eventually.
Perhaps our faith will be that much stronger,
If we are forced to wait just a little longer.

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