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Excerpt from the real Journal
dsweetgoober



7/7/94

Soldiers

I hear the ring and stamp of feet,
soldiers streaming through the street,
plans of mischief to complete,
brought by ever hastening feet.

Soldiers all, some wheat-- some chaff,
they seek a shepherd and a staff,
a garden lies across their path,
a tender plant awaits their wrath.

Swords and knives and sticks abound,
a little lamb they must surround,
a figure stirs without a sound,
and gently rises from the ground.

And soldiers lead him off to die,
defenseless and without a cry,
and no one speaks a word but I...

"Oh Lord! Have you no soldiers?"

Soldiers find a robe to place,
upon his shoulders while his face,
is stained with blood to purchase grace,
for hounds who brought him from the chase.

And soldiers sport and play a game,
"Tell me prophet! What's my name?"
Sea waves frothing out their shame,
and yet he loves them all the same.

And soldiers lead him off to die,
defenseless and without a cry,
and no one speaks a word but I...

"Oh Lord! Where are your soldiers?"

And soldiers place him in the ground,
with soldiers stationed all around,
while in the tomb without a sound,
he gently rises from the ground.

First to Hell and Death below,
then to Heaven he must go,
to bring what soldiers need to know,
mercy and forgiveness flow.

And Hell and Death have met defeat,
and we see victory complete,
as soldiers bow before his feet,
to find salvation full and sweet.

And soldiers learn that they must die,
defenseless and without a cry,
I hear them say and so do I...

"Oh Lord, I'll be your soldier!"