THE CHAMPION (GOD VS. SATAN)

BY  CARMAN
devil_vs_jesus_by_ongchewpeng3
In the vast expanse of a timeless place,
Where silence ruled the outer space,
Ominously towering, it stood,
The symbol of a spirit war
Between the one name Lucifer,
And the Morning Star, the ultimate of good.

Enveloped by a trillion planets,
Clean as lightning and hard as granite,
A cosmic coliseum would host the end
Of the war between the lord of sin and death,
And the Omnipotent Creator of man’s first breath,
Who will decide who forever will be the Champion.

The audience for the ‘Fight of the Ages’ was assembled and in place.
The angels came in splendor from a star.
The saints that had gone before were there: Jeremiah, Enoch, Job.
They were singing the “Song of Zion” on David’s harp.

The demons arrived, offensive and vile, cursing and blaspheming God.
Followed by their ‘trophies’ dead and gone.
Hitler, Napoleon, Pharaoh, Capone,
Tormented and vexed and grieved.
Waiting for their judgment from the Throne.

Then a chill swept through the mammoth crowd
and the demons squealed with glee,
as a sordid, vulgar, repulsive essence was felt.
Arrogantly prancing, hands held high, draped in a sparkling shroud
Trolled by demons, Satan ascended from Hell.

Then Satan cringed, the sinners groaned!
The demons reeled in pain as a swell of power like silent thunder rolled
With a surge of light beyond intense, illuminating the universe,
In resplendent glory appeared the Son of God.

Then a Persona, yes, Extraordinaire appeared in center ring.
God the Father will oversee the duel.
Opening the Book of Life, each grandstand hushed in awe as
majestically He said,
“Now here’s the rules. You’ll be wounded for their transgressions,
bruised for iniquities”
When He said, “By His stripes they’re healed,” the devil shook!
He screamed, “Sickness is my specialty. I hate that healing junk!”
God said, “You shut your face, I wrote the book!”
Then the Father looked at His only Son and said,
“You know the rules.
Your blood will cleanse their sins and calm their fears.”
Then He pointed His finger at Satan and said,
“And I know you know the rules.
You’ve been twisting them to deceive My people for years.”
Satan cried, “I’ll kill you Christ! You’ll never win this fight!”
The demons wheezed, “That’s right, there ain’t no way.”
Satan jeered, “You’re dead meat, Jesus, I’m gonna bust you up tonight!”
Jesus said, “Go ahead, make my day!”

The bell, the crowd, the fight was on,
And the devil leaped in fury.
With all his evil tricks he came undone.
He threw his jabs of hate and lust.
A stab of pride and envy,
but the hand that knew no sin blocked every one.

Forty days and nights they fought, and Satan couldn’t touch Him.
Now the final blow saved for the final round.
Prophetically Christ’s hands came down
And Satan struck in vengeance!
The blow of death felled Jesus to the ground.

The devils roared in victory!
The saints shocked and perplexed
as wounds appeared upon His hands and feet.
Then Satan kicked Him in His side, and blood and water flowed.
And they waited for the 10 count of defeat.

God the Father turned His head,
His tears announcing Christ was dead!
The 10 count would proclaim the battle’s end.

Then Satan trembled through his sweat in unexpected horror, yet…
As God started the count by saying,
“…10…”
“Hey wait a minute, God…”
“…9…”
“Stop! You’re counting wrong…”
“…8…”
His eyes are moving…
“…7…”
His fingers are twitching…
“…6…”
“Where’s all this Light coming from?”
“…5…”
“He’s alive!”
“…4…”
“Oh – nooooo!”
“…3…”
Oh yes!,
“…2…”
HE HAS…
“…1…”
He has won!
He has won!
He’s alive forevermore!
He is risen, He is Lord,
He has won!
He has won!
He’s alive forevermore,
He is risen!
He is Lord!

Proclaim the news in every tongue,
Through endless ages and beyond!
Let it be voiced from mountains loud and strong!
Captivity has been set free, salvation bought for you and me,
‘Cause Satan is defeated,
And Jesus is The Champion!

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The Nymph’s Reply to the Shepherd

BY SIR WALTER RALEGH

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If all the world and love were young,
And truth in every Shepherd’s tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move,
To live with thee, and be thy love.

Time drives the flocks from field to fold,
When Rivers rage and Rocks grow cold,
And Philomel becometh dumb,
The rest complains of cares to come.

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields,
To wayward winter reckoning yields,
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancy’s spring, but sorrow’s fall.

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of Roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten:
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

Thy belt of straw and Ivy buds,
The Coral clasps and amber studs,
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee and be thy love.

But could youth last, and love still breed,
Had joys no date, nor age no need,
Then these delights my mind might move
To live with thee, and be thy love.

The Passionate Shepherd to His Love

BY CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE

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Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That Valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the Rocks,
Seeing the Shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow Rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing Madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of Roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of Myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty Lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;

A belt of straw and Ivy buds,
With Coral clasps and Amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me, and be my love.

The Shepherds’ Swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May-morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me, and be my love.