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!!!!
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