With iron fence
and lawn cut neat,
a large white house
on Potomac Street.

Inside is a man
in a large room,
bright sunbeams fall
to break the gloom.

He walks about
the room to pace,
and speaks out loud
to the open space.

“With this Bible
in my hand
the Savior’s law
will rule this land.”

“My righteous faith
is very strong.
I know what’s right
and what is wrong.”

“There are times
when bombs must fall,
so a Godly life
is lived by all.”

“The Christian folk
who vote me in,
God fearing souls
all free of sin.”

“With moral fiber
and much more,
they speak of peace
and vote for war.”

His speaking stops,
not by choice.
In chorus song
comes the voice.

An oval office
has just one wall.
From floor to ceiling
the Angeles call.

Like sparkling rain
within his ear
their voices speak
for him to hear.

“The Savior’s blood
has made you wise.
Them him forsake
you must despise.”

“Those who will not
sing his song
are wrought with sin,
their thinking wrong.”

“Our Christian God
will hear them not.
In brimstone fire
their souls burn hot.”

“To pray to God
without ‘His’ name,
the blaspheme
of a sinners shame.”

“God has made you
His selection,
your cause made right
by the Resurrection.”

“Our Holy God
whom you must please
says go and kill
some Iraqis.”

“ He sends you out
with a flaming sword,
to smite them down,
the Muslim horde.”

“And since it’s God
we speak about
you won’t be held
to make account.”

“In so much blood
there is no shame,
when it’s done
in the Savior’s name.”

“Now Jerusalem
won’t know its glory
unless it resembles
a Bible story.”

“A tourist attraction
with a souvenir stand,
it shall be called
BIBLELAND.”

“But so many Muslims
living downtown,
would be a blight
and bring it down.”

“It’s God’s decree
that you may know,
the Muslim crowds
will have to go.”

“And of course
they are to blame
for they deny
the Savior’s name.”

But just then
an interruption.
the Angeles stop
their long instruction.

Came walking in
without pretense,
the Secretary
of Defense.

The man now said,
“Please have no fear,
I have some news
you’ll want to hear.”

“God has shown me
by His hand
I am the master
of the Holy Land.”

“You must now know
there is none worse
then the desert plague
of the Muslim curse.”

“Of this Jihad
God does abhor.
I’ll end it all
with my Holy War.”

“From my father
I took my name,
and used it well
to win great fame.”

“Though even now,
his office gone
his Muslim foe
still lingers on.”

“The family pride
our great possession.
This desert king
my sole obsession.”

“In the last war
I was kept out.
I stayed at home
with Father’s clout.”

“No great soldier
would I be.
No view of war
was I to see.”

“Now I make war
all the same.
It is all done
in the Savior’s name.”

The Secretary,
with no distress,
stood there saying.
“Yes, Yes, Yes.”

“Of you sir
we are quite proud.”
The Secretary
spoke out loud.

“As the leader
of the world
your flag of war
is thus unfurled.”

“ Of course the Senate
must say ‘yes’,
but there’s no problem
by my guess.”

“They’ll be afraid
if they say ‘No’
the voters may
just let them go.”

“The Senate’s just
a gang of slobs,
their only goal
to keep their jobs.”

“I must now go
to make ready,
for your invasion
strong and steady

The Secretary
then walked out.
The man remained
and walked about.

The sunlight fell
through a French door,
onto the carpet
of the office floor.

Then from the walls
and all around,
the office filled
with Angel sounds.

Behind the frames,
under the books,
within the drawers,
like babbling brooks.

They only speak
when he’s alone.
Their message from
God’s golden throne.

“From your mouth
the truth proceeds.
With your hands
you’ll do God’s Deeds.”

“God won’t let
you make an error.
Not even when
your acts cause terror.”

“He will guide you
In your thought.
You will make
God’s lessons taught.”

“It will be
like Noah’s flood,
ten thousand sinners
drowned in blood.”

“And when they ask
‘Who did this thing’,
across the world
your name will ring.”

“All will know
God’s warrior came,
and slew them in
the Savior’s name.”

Then I awoke
with a loud scream
“Oh dear Lord,
it’s just a dream.”

Up in my bed
I quickly sat.
“Can you imagine
a madman like that.”

By Stephen Ostrander