This poem is not supposed to resemble the famous "T'was the night before Christmas" poem. |
T'was the day of Tribulation For the love of Jesus was not present. And the sight of violence was pleasant To the eyes of the wicked. Satan was presented as king, And Christ the enemy. December 30th was the new holiday, With everyone cheering in glee, Bowing at their knees, Praising their new found god. The Atheists, the Jews, The Muslims, the Mormons, The Catholics, the Agnostics. All kissing the feet Of the prince of darkness. Foul odor in the air, Christians praying in their last moments, Awaiting to be with Jesus, The King of Kings, Lord of Lords. As they finished their prayers, The president, yes even he, ordered the execution, Not by gunfire, not by knife, not by stones, fire, or whips, But by the breath of lions, or the bears. As the crowds gathered their tickets, Not for the football games, Not for the concerts, Not for the movies, But for the new entertainment, the enjoyment of watching Christians, Fighting the lions, bears, and tigers. The Christians still had their church, In subways, underground tunnels, even some homes. Awaiting to hear the rustling of the Feet of the police, Coming to arrest them. For the hope of the followers of Christ was slim, They held on, Then when all hope seemed gone, The golden crown of thorns arose from the east, Brighter than the sun, louder than sound itself, Bright enough to be seen by the blind, Loud enough to be heard by the deaf, Amazing enough the mute could speak. The Christians lost their fear, For Jesus was here. Riding His White Horse, With a message on His thigh. Casting the wicked to Hell, Granting the blessed to Heaven, There was no need to fear, For Jesus was here. |