Poetry

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THE CONSTANT TRAMP OF FEET IS REALITY

THE CONSTANT TRAMP OF FEET IS IN MY EARS.

It’s growing louder now.
I hear disquiet and people forced to bow.
People must pay homage to climate change;
Must worship more conjectures strange.

“Do not question; just obey.
Careful now with what you say.
Big Brother watches night and day.
At socialism’s feet, your tribute pay.”

“You must not destroy the earth;
Our Mother earth who gave us birth.
Break out in Cybele’s praise;
To Mother earth, your voices raise;
Drink to Bacchus; feast to Diana;
Celebrate Pan; raise his banner.”

THE CONSTANT TRAMP OF FEET IS IN MY EARS.

It’s growing louder even more.
“What more is contained in its store?
We don’t want heartache, we implore.
We just want goodness we can adore.
You’ve constrain us according to law.”

The tramp of feet keeps up its beat.
Along the street, hear the repeat.
We’re being gathered in, with no retreat.
It comes for us along the street.

We’ve disobeyed; our homage paid –
At Another’s feet, our lives we laid;
To God, our allegiances made.

“But that’s illegal,” the State decreed!
It outlawed religion in thought or deed.
“There are consequences, if that life you lead;
If you persist, then punishments indeed.”

“The opiate of the people,” according to Marx,
To whom the socialist movement harks.
“Blind religion we must exterminate!
Marx, Mao zeDong, Xi – these we imitate.”

To Caesar, or to God. Choose one Master.
“Choose correctly, or there’ll be disaster.
Choose not Christ – the State is your pastor.”

Darkness descends and blackness increases.
Abort the child so that its life ceases.
Terminate the elderly and infirm.
Their lives are unproductive; now let them squirm.

“You must conform to the socialist order.
Your lives are programmed; don’t cross that border.
Don’t touch God things to bring disorder.”

THE CONSTANT TRAMP OF FEET IS IN MY EARS.

It’s growing ever stronger and now outside!
There’s no place for concealment; no place to hide.
The finale has been reached;
Pagan man’s stronghold has been breached!

The last tramp of feet belongs to God.
With a summons sure, those feet are shod.
He comes to gather His own,
Soon to be around His throne.

Christians have been hated by the world,
Rejected, disowned, with abuse at them hurled;
Legislated against; persecuted, vilified,
But now the Lord comes and they’re glorified.

THE CONSTANT TRAMP OF FEET IS IN MY EARS.

It’s growing louder now.

This world is not our home.
Only through it do we roam.
We are seeing things most vile,
Which is heathenism’s bile.
Demonic laws are being passed;
The roundup net is being cast.

The world is preparing, but knows not why.
It follows Satan and believes his lie.
Chaos on the world is drawing nigh.
As much as you try, it won’t pass you by.
Soon comes real disaster, but the Christians won’t be here,
Because they’ve been raptured by Jesus; it’s now so near.


This poem is copyright and must not be used without the writer's knowledge. I am happy for it to be used in Christian ministry. Authorship is to be acknowledged.

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