By I.M. Ulysses
I am the Watchman
Tried now and true
Appointed by God
To speak unto you.
I was not born
With riches or gold
Yet the Lord has commanded
That I should be bold
Up to the ramparts
To the the walls of the City
There to bare witness
Of all that is written
This City is Mine
The Lord has declared
And soon I am coming
To bring justice there
For I am the Father
And Jesus my Son
Turn to him now
For He will soon come
But they do not listen
Their ears are all stopped
Instead they talk peace
With those who are lost
Terrors befall me
As I ponder their fate
And I cry unto God
Is it too late?
The sky now darkens
As a cloud flutters down
Echoes of waters
In my ears resound
Behold my poor country
The Lord He doth speaks
And know that it's full
Of sin and deceits
The house of the devil
On my mountain stands
A sinful abomination
In my Holy Lands
A gold crusted horror
A vile place of sin
Sits and defiles
The people therein
But soon it will fall
Like the old Persian Lion
And I will again
Dwell on Mount Zion
Then will I free
Israel of these liars
Who will be punished
With eternal Fires
For I am the Lord
And there is none other
Not Dagan, not Allah
Not even Mohammed
They are all false
Take them from my face
The temple they built
I will soon erase
The true House of God
Is a place of prayer
Not a haven for demons
Which murderers share
I spoke what I heard
And the cloud rose higher
Above the gold dome
With its evil towers
Then the ground shook
And the people trembled
I screamed 'it's begun'
As the first one tumbled
It crashed to the ground
Followed by the others
And soon they were all
Atop one another
The people were fleeing
As the next bolt came down
Striking the dome
With a horrific sound
I spoke from my rampart
'Lord, hurry the way
Jerusalem's Justice
Cannot be delayed'
Once more the Lord struck
And sent down His fire
Upon Satan's throne
Which Mohammed inspired
It collapsed in a heap
Inside of Mount Zion
Which opened its mouth
And swallowed the Lion
Then the Lord said
My house, build it on
The Lord Jesus Christ
Who is my own Son
The cloud then departed
And the sun, it then shone
But gone was the temple
Which is Satan's throne
I gazed at this site
And bowed my poor head
Worshiping God
Whose Word I had read
Thou art the Watchman
Whom Ezekiel has known
Now go and speak boldly
Of all you were shown
For this was a vision
Of a time yet unseen
When God shall bring justice
To His own City
Jerusalem the Great
The place of all peace
Shall again know the Lord
And will find release
Thursday, November 27, 2008
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1 comment:
Excellent, well done.
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