Heres something i wrote up quick one day for school a few months back. Its meant to copy and have the same effect as Jonathan Edwards' famous 'Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God' sermon. If you havent read his sermon i highly suggest it. Its quite a read. From his pulpit Edwards had his congregation literally writhing on the floor because it was so powerful. I only had to capture the beginning portion of his sermon in which he repeatedly points out the inevitable damnation of his congregation. Other members of my group did following portions of his sermon as it changed tone. Regardless heres my portion. And it has to deal with shoes.

Oh sightless ones there is no excuse. When the great Lord comes down in all his wondrous majesty, surrounded by his triumphant angels, heralded by the cherubim and seraphim, he will take no excuses. He will spare no time for your lies and futile apologies. Your ignorance is your very death, alive and around you like a black veil, blinding your eyes with its false truths. It hangs from your shoulders like a mantel of fine furs and you relish its covertly insidious presence as you would a good friend.

Oh sightless ones look to your hands. They are stained red, red with blood, as the blood of your dying soul, which you so callously strangle with every waking step, trickles through your fingers, bittersweet and guilty. Even now your own serpent sets your mind with doubts, it whispers its honey and venom into your ear, and you succumb willingly. Cast aside this foul serpent and listen so that you may yet see your own foolishness. Your very essence of individuality is withered and dying. It cries to you. Listen to its wailing that you may have no excuses to make when the chosen rise and the damned burn in hellís eternity. Your very individuality is broken and weeps from atrophy. You are a puppet, it cries vainly, you are a puppet to society and massmarketing, yet you turn a sightless eye and a deaf ear to its pleas, its cries unheard over your serpentís sweet nothings.

Oh sightless ones look to your shoes. These are the very instruments of torture, which you wield in ignorance and apply with false intentions, that tear at your soul causing it to wail unto your deaf ears with suffering on its tongue. In your ignorance you choose which instruments of death to apply to the jugular of your soul, because those around you say you must, and you, in ignorance and apathy follow. You are fooled by colors and patterns; you believe your purchase will proclaim your individuality. This is a lie, spoken to you through ignorance, and you think not of it. Your purchase has been made in blood, the blood of your eternal soul is offered, like that of a bull, on the worn altar of a false god. Forged in ignorance and tempered with lies, your shoes cut into the flesh of your soul, and spill its blood in dark unholy ritual. Your every step on this earth, allowed to you by God alone, is as if you spat in His face.

Oh sightless ones hiding behind your shoes in false individuality. Conformed to society through your own vain attempts at uniqueness, you go about your days, unaware and uncaring, as your soul slowly withers. Your veil of ignorance, which you wear so arrogantly, deludes you as to what you have become. You crawl in the dirt on your stomach as the earthworm in the ground, nameless and faceless, indistinguishable from your fellow damned that sit around you, and so shall you, upon the Lordís calling, be crushed under the heel of those mightier than you. Your plight is hopeless and your fate sealed and you can do nothing but watch and hide behind your mask of individuality as the hand of God approaches, spiteful and vengeful, to snuff out your life as so many candles and return you to the dust from whence you came as you are no better than that dust as you sit before me now.

Oh sightless ones your soul is a cavern of lies.

So yeah. That was fun to write.