How carefully you plot to remove the Most High God from this world;

Strip Him of His Glory and replace His words with lies.

In secret rooms you whisper the words of plans so deep.

“We’ll take this first. And then the next. Then bit by bit He’ll shrivel in our midst.”

And as your plot unveils, you marvel at the ease.

It seems there’s no one to stand against those thoughts that begged for release.

There is a day when you will dance.

That hidden glee will celebrate openly.

And on that day utter horror awaits.

For when you think you have won the Lord Himself will appear.

Send your presents to one another, and dance that dance of joy.

All your work goes with you, as you stand before the Lord.

You didn’t want Him here. He won’t want you there.

And here you have a year or two.

There, eternity will move suddenly without you.

I applaud your striving.

It’s obvious you’re strong.

But what strength will you have when all your hope is gone?

Take what’s not yours.

Please take all you will.

We must make sure that all you have fills up unholy hell.