The Devil's Nightmare

Satan awoke in a sweat one night
His spirit quivering, dumb with fright
A dream it was that had so vexed him
Its grim, dark fear greatly perplexed him
He called his advisor to ease his head
The advisor sat next to the devil’s bed
And he consoled the Accuser with the words he said

“Fear not, my lord, it was but a dream;
Things are not so bad as they would seem.
Yes, the Church remains alive.
But, lest it change, it shall not thrive.
They hide their flaws, they don’t confess,
They cover up their rotten mess.
They sit in pews on Sunday morning,
But that is all they care for learning.
They see suffering but will not stop it;
They’re too concerned with the building’s carpet.
They are content with one another,
So they welcome to themselves no others.
They quarrel over petty trifles.
They seek decisions, not disciples.
The world is dying outside their walls,
And they are building ‘fellowship halls.’
So sleep in peace, my lord, I say.
Our cause will live another day.
The Church is not a fearful thing,
But only slightly troubling.”

So the fallen angel’s mind was eased
And, in fact, he now was rather pleased
He slept sound again within the hour
Dreaming of whom he may devour
So all was well in Hades’ deep
The devil got a good night’s sleep
And that, o Church, should make you weep


P.S. If you enjoyed this poem, you should check out the rest of my poetry at http://soaringflames.blogspot.com/