Satan’s Mistake


Dark had entrenched around Light
Evil hollered with wicked glee
Long he’d planned for this moment
Since Heaven he’d been forced to flee.

Demons circled, swirled about Golgotha
Passing from one hardened heart to the next
Others might dare to claim what happened
Satan laughed ’cause he wrote the text.

Satan sat haughty in triumph
Victory surely at last belonged to Him
There was no hope for God’s creation
It had flickered, it had died, not merely dim.

He watched the grave swallow the body
Bound by death clothes in the tomb
No hope of survival, nor of revival
A cold dead body in earth’s womb.

I’ve won, Satan believed in triumph
Jesus was dead by his design
Evil knew success for a moment
But doubt began to edge in his mind.

He realized too late his mistakes
There was no undoing the deeds he’d done
Satan moaned and belittled himself
Who had won when he killed God’s Son?

Three days he’d have to wait now
Three days for victory to be sure
He’d see it through to prove he was best
Surely from death there was no cure?
               d.f.a.v. 4-18-14
“It’s Friday…but Sunday’s coming…”

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