In The Spirit Slain

Battle lines drawn, wars constant rage.

Hope against darkness; in the spirit slain.

The tearing asunder; the shattering of heart and mind,

The final culmination comes swift on winged time.

Swords are now drawn, standards to heaven raised.

All is set in motion unto the tendering of days.

Arrows hot sting falls nil unto the fetid soil.

Victory is assured and unto Glory the spoil.

Come now and see said the angel;

Recompense comes of crimson stain.

Come now see said the angel;

Whilst still in the spirit you are slain.

J. Allen Wilson © TWO 2007