The Hero An Easter Poem

The King looked down upon the land, Saw Earth in great distress. This place that He has loved so much, The things He loved and blessed; Saw cruelty of every kind, Sickness, death, decay. He knew that something must be done, Set forth without delay. He knew how He would be received, Who would and who would not; But He made sure that those who would, Would not be just forgot; For we are His and His alone, For by His hand we're made, And now we're His twice over, Because the price He paid. He could have simply turned His head, And looked the other way, Could have made another place, And left uf to our fate. It's nothing less than we deserve, You'd think by now we'd learn. Without His Grace our goose is cooked. Without His care we'd burn. God The Father gave His All. The Best That Heaven Had, And all we gave Him in return, At best could be called bad; But that's just not the way love works. It's just not His way. What He made in love and joy, Won't be destroyed that way. The King was filled with anger, To see His Own attacked; For He's a loving Father, The Enemy feels His wrath. The King returned unto the land, Back to |His dwindling fold. He called to His remaining sheep, Bought back with purest gold. All who woud return to Him, Now have no need to fear. He paid the price and bought us back, Because He holds us dear. He suffered and He died for us. He strode right through Hell's gate, And took back what belongs to Him. Now Hell is not our fate. Satan longed to rule it all. He's filed with evil schemes. This is no fairy tale, it's real. It is no silly dream. He was cast out of Heaven, For trying to take God's place, And so he was cast into Hell, Where he lives in disgrace. Now he thinks and plots and schemes, Filled with greed and lust. He knows that God is only hurt, Whenever he gets to us.