War Zone

A Poem by Apollos

Our battle is not against flesh & blood.

Shield of Faith.
Heart palpitate.

Feet incinerated with The Gospel.
Satan just checked into a hostel.

His Throne.
My mind-zone.

Helmet of Salvation.
No preparing this New Creation.

Cremate the ape of a Fallen past.
Not clinging to memories that will never last.
Choosing fasting over asking.
Looking past Lucifer’s feeble attempts at masking.

Never lacking with my Breastplate of Righteousness given to me as my own.
Bowing down to the Kingdom Shaker who frees the drones.
Never needing to lie.
Sometimes needing this Belt of Truth to cover my eyes.

If I turn back I might die.
If I don’t compromise then my enemy fries.
Principalities have become normalities.

Powers that will no longer devour.
This is the Final Hour for the Princes to be with their Mistress.
Don’t miss this and lose a chance to be His Miss.