Satan's Last Legs

Now his time is so short
And he knows it
And he rages at signs of defeat
And he pushes the envelope harder
Whispering licence and lusts
Oh so sweet.
Yet another is cooling to darkness
And now hearing the Voice
Of relief
“Come you weary
And laden to shelter.
Leave the chaos for rest
Through belief.
I am more than the fabled
Good Shepherd
I have sought you
And bled for your heart.
See the manacles
Fall to the dust, Child.
Slewfoot flees
And his minions depart.”
Oh that many were blessed
With the vision
Of the Heavenly City
Drawn near.
And the One on white horse
Claiming victory
O’er the master
Of fraud and of fear.