Tuesday, May 09, 2006


As the tempest beats upon the walls,
and dark skies spit venomous hail
These walls of stone though ancient and worn
Stand firm and steadfast and ready.
Bearing scars of long battle
the grounds 'round it hide
midst thick brush grown over time
a landscape of bodies, the gory dead.
Now only the wind howls upon the gate,
the battle being long over
And no one answers within.
Death and her army lie broken like twigs
Liar and his deception rot with Adultery
Pride and Murder by the East gate,
dead with their knives upon each other.
Forever they lay and have laid dead
in pools of their own blood,
by the hands and swords of their own kin
Sin breeding sin, breeding death
And now silence.
Yet within the walls the fortress sings
Its songs seep from the stones like honey
The sound is like the voice of a child, simple and pure.
The sound is not one voice, but many;
They lament not, but rejoice in victory.
These are eternal songs from past, present and evermore
I am hidden behind this wall,
this Mighty Fortress that is my God
I partake in the feast and the everlasting praise
To celebrate the battle He has already won.

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