We bar and barricade the doors
In our attempts to gain control
Over the monster of the moors
Whose presence takes a deathly toll.
Among our fellow men we place
A visage of maturity,
And wear a smile upon the face
That none might our true nature see.
And all the while we waste away
As day by day the monster kills.
We fall defeated in the fray,
Forsaken by our fallen wills.
We will forever lose the fight,
For our desires are much too strong.
Unless we fall before the Light,
We soon will sing our final song.
The only answer to the curse
Is in the God-man crucified.
In death was opened heaven’s purse.
His payment poured from pierced side
That we poor sinners could be cleared
From wages that were well deserved.
He saved us from the fate we feared,
And humbly our Creator served.
So do not tarry in this time
And risk eternity in strife,
But heed the reason for this rhyme
And turn to Christ the Lord for life!