Ephesians tells of spirits dark that were Permitted for a while to leave the pit, Allowed to freely roam and rove the air And wreak destruction beyond human wit.
From deepest depth transported to the heights- Trained for the kill, they hurtle and descend, Upon their goal in fierce satanic flights- A one-way flight, because they will not land.
But juxtaposed against so great a hate Is overwhelming and heroic love, So deep a love that none can ever rate The value of the gloriole thereof.
It boggles, wrenches spirit, mind and soul, For any zealous pen to write and tell Of works, mephistolean rank and foul,- The wreckage and destruction of deep hell.
A martyr is whom OTHERS do deprive Of what he cherishes and holds aplomb, His own, and all his fellows treasured life- Not kamikaze madmen with a bomb.
See the bereaved that search with broken heart Among the rubble and in armories.- No human words can tell their grief and smart- To find their loves entombed below debris.
O firefighters! law-men! rescue teams!- Digging with bare hands, following some cry- Imperiled, yet attentive to the screams, Where brothers deep below the wreckage lie
No greater love than that all set to give The own so precious live to save a friend,- Braves raging fires so that friends may live, Or else extend for the last rites a hand.
O Lord! be ‘mongst the wreckage and the cries,- Black plumes, the anguish and debris- And bid the phoenix from the ashes rise And loud proclaim you are the one WHO IS..
