Trekking to the mountaintop this band of beasts and saints
Sergeant Jesus in the fore with commands, a luminous path He paints
“Deny yourself!” He shouts at every turn
“Struggle for Godliness and brother; unless you want to burn!”
“Be like beheaded saints of old whose eyes of heart focused on Kingdom rule,
To neither pleasure-quest nor pain of evils did those saints succumb; they were no fools,
Whose egos fell like dresses to reveal naked hearts of gold,
Headless they lived their lives and headless went to heaven, servants brave and bold. “
On our journey-mysterious we hikers stopped to look below
The beast imperious imprisoned spewing anger and excuses, such a pathetic fellow
Germs of confusion and lies he broadcast before he went, to infect the innocent if he could
While waiting for the Lake of Fire, that hopeless fiend of wood.
We, the remnant, climbed faster and higher to escape the image of that bound-up beast
With energy renewed, we grabbed branches to hoist ourselves from his fire’s feast
When suddenly before us on that mysterious mountainside appeared
Judgment thrones of marble stone with Sergeant waiting for us who feared.
Souls of spirits long arrested, added to our ranks affected
Us hikers, mountain climbers who stopped to be inspected
Foreheads and hands we did display for marks of the bound-up beast
Who allowed him to pollute their minds or which hands work for him to please?
It is true I saw it then that some among us suffered
Locked into death, a dark prison of self-centered choosing, so much tougher
While others went on to follow the Son, Sergeant Jesus our commander, with affection
For the easiest mile of the climb followed the first resurrection.
After what seemed a thousand of years, the beast was released from his prison
To wage war on the world with lies and deceits pitting nation against holy nation
Until the moment that God said “The end.”
And fire came down out of heaven.
From our mountaintop perch we saw the face of the earth all ablaze
With billions of bombs aimed at each other engulfed in a blinding haze
Except for us on the mountain path, no one noticed the fire raining from heaven
To devour devious devil and beast before flinging them into torment unending.
With the perpetrator and great deceiver gone
He who enticed with lies that no one couldn’t deliver on
Convincing each fool that his own way lead to joy or fate
It was time for God of truth and rules to select His holy mate.
Back on mountain top we spied our master and commander king
Sergeant Jesus megaphone firmly in hand, I really think he liked that thing
Shouted to us to form a single line for the second and final judgment day
“There will be no third for saints or sinners” he hollered, “to go another way.”
Then books were opened and the Book we hikers most feared and dreaded,
To see whose names were written, and where each of us was headed
To see who loved more than hated;
And who was willing to be beheaded and berated?
Who worshipped God and Him alone instead of power brokers
Who faithfully stayed on the luminous path of commands while others were only jokers
Or for whom did Sunday morning cozy beds ring louder than bells and hymns
Who suffered in the world and soul so much (s)he let Christ’s own light dim?
Every line perused the judges in the open Books of Life and of works
for what each soul accomplished and achieved by free strong will, or who was killed by jerks
to land in the Lake of Fire to be tormented by memories of earthly bliss
Tormented all the more that ignorance, willfulness, and doubts lead them to this.
Tear drenched faces of the living
Turned to the Son who had stopped forgiving
To dry their eyes so they could see New Jerusalem descending
Adorned as a bride for her husband unending.
Purified, white satin shimmering
Mountaintop winners winning
Champions afew stepping into Shalom city they always lived in
To see the face of God and to touch Him
Victorious-arms raised high having endured ages of turmoil
Receive their jeweled crowns, then bent down to kiss the holy soil
Heard God say
My holy world without end is born today.