Notes About The Poem
Brian Johnston
May 23,2014
Beelzebub Vs God
His cloak's foul tent is what supplies,
The darkness for the craft he plies…
His lair, "The Father of ALL Lies."
Victims who enter there "to cope, "
Soon find themselves bereft of hope,
Like insects caught in toilet's slope.
Their fear becomes a coward's rush,
They quail with new found wisdom's hush,
And contemplate the final flush!
Oh my dear friend, reject his tent,
Whose shelter is so glibly lent,
God's pain worth more than Satan's rent!
Such pain may lead you to the light,
You often miss with man's insight,
Live on dear one and fight the fight!
With all your soul God's path embrace,
And when you meet Him face to face,
You'll know that Heaven IS His Grace!
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