The Final Score
by, Linda Marie Pharaoh-Carlsonęcopyright, all rights reserved

Pawns...upon the broad board of life.
Moving randomly about by the single turn of a hand.
And upon the whims of one whose only desire is
To matter the the end.
But his sly strategies fail to bring to ruin
the unwitting players of the game.
When there is a greater strategist at play
that makes that final move, and all the captured pieces
which belong to Him are gathered.

So make your move, as the diabolic
grand master of chaos and doom.
Do your worst, while the game is yours yet to play.
For the outcome has already been set in stone
by the bloody sacrifice of
One who has already outplayed you.
And no longer will you have dominion
over the souls of men. Nor will you forever rule over
how life plays out before them.

It seems now that yours is the upper hand and you lead,
but rules of life's game can't be forever ignored.
And great consequences await those who do.
And there is no greater a deceiver than he
that would tout a fair game, only to then remove
the pawns, clear the board early...
without first allowing the players the chance
to win, lose, or draw.
"Pawns can't make choices"... say you.
As you stealthily move them into play
upon the grim side of hopelessness, darkness,
and despair. Loser's...all....these weak
desperate masses,
the useless, valueless, wisdom-less players...
that stand to lose even so much more
than life's game In the end, as the final move is made.
There is one who observes it all...
standing there watching, awaiting his time to play.
Until that time, He leaves the playing to the pawns,
to acquiesce or to stay their position,
advance, fall back, but...with heightened expectations
that they will not allow you to win.
Make your worst move dark player of souls.
You'll gather a few here and there,
but you should know that this game is already won.

No one and nothing can separate these
unsuspecting little pawns, once they've been caught up
by the Master Strategist, those who love Him,
whom He loves, who become the faithful army
that will lay down their own game plans for His.
And the tortured outcome is your dreary lot,
your dark and shameful defeat. When the game is over,
you've done your worst, you've destroyed
what you will stand alone
and have to admit it's done.
beaten at long last.

No more games to play.
No more hapless pawns to bend and twist
into the dark positions upon the board.
To the Victor belong the spoils,
even when in surrender,
they willingly lay their weapons down.

Game over...You have lost

once again.

And He said to me, "it is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end..." Revelations 12:6a
...and He shall wipe away every tear from their eyes and there shall no longer be any death there shall no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away," Revelation 21:4

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Graphics by Linda, made especially for
this poem. Please do not use them without prior
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