Long Grows The Shadow Of Tyranny…
Long grows the shadow of tyranny upon the land… cold, the hand of the despot upon our liberty, falls. Who will stand, who will go, who will answer the call… Whose blood, did pave the streets of liberty. We few, we few men, whose lives did bleed, cry out; come, stay the course true, and live in peace forever renewed… Die not the coward’s curse, make sure freedom’s thirst…
Can the bards of time so eloquently lift, their voices to cry… give us liberty or give us death… and not be heard? Can there be so few, yet in this land, too rally round the tree of liberty? Whose voice shall our children dance too or labor now; whose cheers of joy shall our wives great … Will it be freemen or the slaves of a new plantation?
Were comes this cry for justice in our land of law… Who is it, that has turned the servant of the people, too be their master’s… Call. Will justice be blind, in a land bartered by men, whose black robes so aptly hide their souls? Let the world know, that the law is the servant of the people, and the unjust judge will be overturned upon appeal, to a people… True.
Woe to the tyrant whose eyes seize upon another’s life and property… thinking to entice the wicked, to engage with him, as his appetite grows bold for more… Until there is no more! Then, shall we hear the voice of the oppressed rise to heaven, and the Supreme Judge of the Land shall speak judgment upon the wicked.
Look up, for the day grows short… and the sun soon sets; then, darkness will cover the wicked for a time and a season. But in the morning judgment comes, upon the wings of an angel, it comes. For, the tyrant shall not escape his end, it is certain; death's curtain shall embrace him, tomorrow and tomorrow, with an eternity of sorrow. Greet now thy makers voice, with joy… Rejoice for He alone, will bring a conclusion to this all… With liberty, we shall break the bounds of the despot’s call… with the voice of freedom, we shall rally all. Amen.
BY: RA Nelson
Col. US Army (Ret.)
Replies
The world stands in awe of the building conflict.. fear grips a lost people, a dumb and muted nation has no hope of salvation nor an eternal reward among the righteous...
God has set His Prophets in their midst... too, declare their error, to warn the wicked of the coming tribulation... but, for all their warnings, signs and wonder, the wicked have hardened their hearts toward God and murdered His prophets... Thinking to kill God's word... too, make them of no effect... they dig their own grave and the cold earth shall swallow them whole, even as Korah and Dathan were taken, they shall proceed no more.
Now comes the keeper of the gate... to surmise the terror that awaits a sleeping people...
Now, comes the silence of men deaf to the cries of the oppressed... blind to the state of affairs in their land... dumb is their response to the tyranny before them. Who will awake these endangered souls... who will charge the cannon and man the line... too, bring down those men in their faded Black Robes... whose derelict judgment has brought on this wayward course... When will the people respond with the needed action to reverse their headlong rush to embrace new masters and a new plantation?
Now comes the keeper of the gate... to surmise the terror that awaits a sleeping people... a neglectful watch and a pitiful guard.... for the soul of the fool drinks its fill and when his glass is empty looks to another for more... More liberty, more wealth, more happiness purchased on the stealth, of a fool's imagination run aground. When will our nation awake and what shall it find... the desolation of time, the horrors of neglect, and a pitiful people all wondering what's next...
Justice denied shall not be suffered forever... the righteous shall have their day and it shall be glorious.
There is a righteous Judge whose robes are neither black nor tempered with the blood of the innocent... He shall judge both the quick and the dead... .He shall divided the soul from the Spirit and bone from the marrow... discerning the hidden secrets of man... Know this ye who falsely judge the land, whose robes are an indictment of your hidden soul... Black as the night they shall no more shed the blood of the innocent as judgment comes to all men... great and small alike... Know this... no twisted metaphor, or crafty defense, shall cover thy sins... nor excuse the weight of their guilt .. no statute or cipher or legal wizardry shall barter a better end to your folly and abuse of power... nay, ye shall stand convicted and judged by your words and deeds.
Now, comes the silence of men deaf to the cries of the oppressed... blind to the state of affairs in their land... dumb is their response to the tyranny before them. Who will awake these endangered souls... who will charge the cannon and man the line... too, bring down those men in their faded Black Robes... whose derelict judgment has brought on this wayward course... When will the people respond with the needed action to reverse their headlong rush to embrace new masters and a new plantation?