How You are fallen from Heaven,
O Day star as the Son of Dawn;
How You cut down that has given,
In which the weak nations are gone.
He will ascend up to Heaven,
Above the stars the throne on high;
The mount of assembly given,
The far reaches the throne does lie.
He will ascend above the clouds,
He will make Himself the most High;
As He watches over the crowds,
Pleading while they out loud cry.
He being brought down into hell,
To the far reaches of the pit;
Fighting the evil that does dwell,
To remain spiritually fit.
Those who see you will merely stare,
Ponder if He did shake the earth;
As someone for the burdens bear,
Stricken to all for all its worth.
Who made the world like a desert,
And its cities were overthrown;
Let not the prisoners desert,
Let them not go off on their own.
All the kings will lie in glory,
Everyone in their own tomb;
Judgment will come from a jury,
If reborn from an earthly womb.
He will cast away from the grave,
A loathed branch and clothed with the slain;
Those pierced by a sword like a slave,
Nails in hand and feet causing pain.
He will join not in burial,
Because He has destroyed the land;
To be as a memorial,
Of the evildoers did demand.
Prepare the slaughter of the sons,
For transgressions of their fathers;
Lest they rise in being the ones,
As being the holy brothers.
Copyright © 2020 Richard Newton Sherrer
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