THE SLAYING OF THE DARK
deep in the hollows of hell’s hole,
hidden from humankind,
stirs a spiteful and stubborn soul.
2. A strain of spirit seeded
from the angelic heavenly plane,
stolen away to self-love,
enslaved by self serving gain.
3. And thus, thrust in the caste of just rebuff,
the cost for a once must have lust,
rebuked to rust, to rest in dust,
for eternity lost, the must.
4. Gone in curse, passed,
by hates hope, reimbursed.
No worse a fate to contemplate,
as that when wooed by lust from heavens gate!
5. To wait eternal, to rest in fire,
adorned with purse of maliced mire.
Infernal blessed, O he,
dressed internal by prides attire.
6. From snoring acrid fumes of smoke,
in a boom, its sleep broke,
and from its tomb, it woke.
And now it grooms the warring plumes
of soaking gloom and doom,
which loom bespoke for every human folk.
7. And there, exhumed from hell’s own womb,
a voice pained grey, it Spoke, to say,
"in darks rejoice, I'm here to slay
the kingdom built of spit and clay!"
8. No way revoked,
what choice but pray,
when joy, from bloom, is crushed and pained,
by dark’s destructive way?
9. But Christ, when flayed,
when mocked and made
to wear a crown of thorns
and slayed.
Displayed three days,
from when He lain,
by being raised,
that dark is slain!
© 2024 Shoestring Shane
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