Victorious!

Victorious! was one of the original pieces which was lost when my thumb drive crashed.  Only about the first 2.5 stanzas survived.  It is also one of my first "religious" type pieces.

The city was bathed in eerie bliss as rain danced on the sky -

The night though young retained an age, an age of days gone by.
Prowling in the shadows, the beast, which has no name,
Searched for souls of sinners; fueled by endless shame.

He spied a lone lost salesman returning for the night,
He sniffed the man expecting not – there would not be a fight.
The beast, he fell upon the man and, struck a fatal blow.
His prey, this catch of man he slew, he felt his hunger grow.

Two young men, and a teenaged lass edged on his ancient fury.
He would rid this place of sin-soaked souls but there would be no hurry.
He had roamed this plane a thousand years and never missed a beat.
Each night he’d claim a soul or two and feast upon its meat.

Thrown down from Heav’n and denied Hell they’d left him here to rot.
Among this waste – humanity – revenge was all he sought.

For it was written long ago by God’s unwavering hand,

Of angel men and mortal maid their offspring would be damned.

An outcast from the dawn of time he had been this mix of seed.

His family tree a brier patch of sin, lust, and deceit.

The curse was his to carry, a bastard’s living hell -

To hunt the souls of sinners this son of…Gabriel!

Damned and yet determined he lived for every bout;

This half-breed angel mortal his fate to carry out.

He sought to rid this world of sinner’s souls by night.

Though driven by unending pain he longed to make wrong right.

“Were I not damned and shunned from Light,” he cried out in the dark,

“I’d turn this world inside out and leave a Holy mark!”

For in the moment it took him to beg release from Death;

The ancient smell of frankincense filled his every breath.

That fateful, fragile instant when he fell upon his face,

His soul was ripped from Evil and filled with endless Grace.

Now born again and charged anew he managed to his feet.

A power he had never felt – a glorious radiant heat!

He felt his quest had changed a bit, new angles of attack.

Instead of sending souls to Hell - to Heav’n, he’d send them back.

And like the fishermen of old, he felt called from the shore.

His aim was true as was his Guide - a hunter never more.

Amazed at how He’d saved him; how quietly He’d knocked.

This half-breed angel mortal by Love his heart unlocked.

This story of a bastard son once cursed to hunt the earth;

Was changed by Grace alone, my friend, because of Jesus’ birth.

For we are all just like this sot – sinners we all be.

We hunt for souls unlike our own and shun them endlessly.

But that is not the way of life our Savior he did preach -

He taught that we should live in love to all souls we should reach.

Forever on and ever true this hunter he does strive.

To capture souls from Evil’s grasp and guide them back to Life.

And to each fight this soldier brings a shield and flaming sword.

His helmet winged and armor true, fresh hammered by the Lord.

He's never failed and never will - this promise we live by.

So long as Christ commands YOU knight, your soul will never die.

Lift up your eyes, your head, your hands and look to Him above;

Forge forth-in faith and fearlessness cloaked in blood washed love.