Man On the Holy Mountain

From the top of the mountain, so high he sits and watches, his children play he closes his eyes, and he cry's Through the silver clouds of heaven, rain begins to fall, washing his children the lan runs red, turning dust to clay The winds begin to howl, with a voice of sorrow as a father mourns, the loss of his child the man looked up, toward the heavens he spoke softly, but they are my children! with that the sun and the moon moved together, melting into one. The clouds grew dark and began to rumble the stars exploded into a brilliant blue, while falling from their place in the sky striking the ground with such force, as to make the mountains quake The children no longer played, they ran with fear but it was too late, there was no place to hide! Multitudes of warring angels, covered the day-night sky lighting their way with swords, made from the eyes of, captured demons. Watching as the iron clad angels, swooped down upon the children, grabbing them up, devouring them whole. The man on the holy mountain, pleaded! But the lord god said"NO" we must cleanse this sinful playground destroy the rotten flesh, plant new seeds of love and forgiveness in this dark world! They smiled, as all went black!!!!