A Battle
A tearing, a gashing;
Cut straight through the heart;
That wicked claw flashing,
Slicing tender flesh apart.
Destroyer is proud
Of this mark like a stain
And the tortured cries out:
"Stop the pain."
A decision is made
Just as soon as is heard
The sad message conveyed
In those three helpless words.
The Hero is off;
So begins the great plan.
The enemy scoffs:
"You're a man?"
Now with his own men
He enters the race.
He whispers to them,
And they move into place.
He laughs with spite
At the fruit of his lies.
The enemy strikes
And He dies.
Three days come and go
And the victor exults.
But what he doesn't know
Is the final result.
For he has been beaten
On his very own plane.
Bringing on his own finish;
End of game.
True Victor now races
To rescue his win
Greeted with happy faces
Set free from their sin.
He makes them restored
From all of their pain.
Now He is their Lord
And He reigns.
-Kevin S. Baba