The Impoverished Beggar

The impoverished beggar calls to me in a language vaguely familiar. A language filled with profane and meaningless words, with moaning and crude gestures that get my attention. I understand what he wants but I feel obligated not to oblige him, since it will only compounds his misery despite his earnest yearnings. Sometimes I feel a natural affection to grant his wish however the knowledge of the spiritual forbids me. There is no quenching his thirst, no saving him. I have decided to let him perish and afterwards not miss him nor mourn him. His birth was a curse and his death will restore the balance of life. He is the inner man of sin and I have been sanctified. The old man perishes but the new man is renewed day by day.