Thinking ourselves wise; we became as fools.
Counting all others as such.
Regarded mass knowledge as salvation.
Concerning pride; filled with much.
Twist, chop, and finagle their Covenant,
claiming they mis-interpret.
For if there is a ' new, ' oh what to do;
our traditions we'd forfeit.
This has gone on so long; now we tire of
of our own senseless prattle.
We must prove them wrong, we must prove them wrong;
so, on and on we babble.
Endless arguing and twisting of words;
we've use to kill other's faith.
Defying their belief in the scriptures;
calling their Savior a wraith.
But low and behold the Day has now come;
sadly we learn we were wrong.
Those we counted foolish are rejoicing;
singing thier Redeemers song.
c.d.m. 12/2/13
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem