Silent night, Holy night.
All is calm…
Well, not quite.
Not at all, actually.
Herod’s in his chambers becoming more neurotic by the second,
Pacing back and forth, his paranoia growing;
Conspiracy theories consuming his every thought…
Like sugar plums dancing in his head.
But the fears of the clueless are nothing
Like those of him who knows what’s coming.
Conspiracies bring excitement, sure
But the truth – well, the truth brings dread.
So, while Herod traipses about at an increasingly wild pace,
Satan is at a full stop.
The devil himself is frozen in place.
In the night’s open air, this little babe might be shaking
But down below all hell is quaking.
A bone-chilling tremble cuts through the blistering heat.
Jack Frost nipping at the gates of hell.
This is the beginning of the end.
This is hell freezing over.
And as for the good guys?
Those angels sweetly singing o’er the plains?
They’re not hovering over a barn anymore.
They’re not looking down on the adoring scene.
No. They’re looking straight at you.
It’s the night before Christmas, not a creature is stirring,
But they’re wondering when you’ll wake from your slumber,
Waiting for you to realize that this is no silent night,
Waiting for you to fall on your knees and hear the angel voices,
Waiting for you to join the fight.
Oh, it’s a holy night, alright.
But this ain’t no lullaby…
This is a war cry.
Post written by my daughter Cherie Garza
Sound the Alarm © – Cherie Garza
Photo by David Lee King on Foter.com / CC BY-NC-SA