Satan's Last Legs

Now his time is so short And he knows it And he rages at signs of defeat And he pushes the envelope harder Whispering licence and lusts Oh so sweet. Yet another is cooling to darkness And now hearing the Voice Of relief “Come you weary And laden to shelter. Leave the chaos for rest Through belief. I am more than the fabled Good Shepherd I have sought you And bled for your heart. See the manacles Fall to the dust, Child. Slewfoot flees And his minions depart.” Oh that many were blessed With the vision Of the Heavenly City Drawn near. And the One on white horse Claiming victory O’er the master Of fraud and of fear.