A Tale of Two Kings
by Michael Doyle

Watching as our days unfold
Into the stories yet untold
Life is a gift for us to live
In taking less than we have to give

Let's not let the Grinch steal Christmas
No snarling sneer will stop this mass
Instead let's live out the glory
As we unfold our Christmas story

In a narcissistic turn of belated fate
There came the king, Herod the Great
As an embodiment of living tyranny
The thirst for power is pride's history

Where there's a preoccupation with the "I"
There will be enough sin to make God sigh
Herod dressed out in his need for possession
Shows how a soul is owned by its obsessions 

Prestige can make its sense of impression
With a gift of gab in all of its deception
All it can bring is a life of morbid fear
When instead, the lives lived should be in cheer

The magi came to see God laying as a baby
Urged on Herod's suspicion that just maybe
There was a true king to breed his insecurity
Leading to disturbed violence in furious history

when the Scriptures were held under deep review
Herod swore he would be be the only King of the Jews
His intended present would not be frankincense, gold or myrrh
But the thoughts of deaths yet to occur

Wanting to give the first of gifts and only the very best
The wise men would return home after passing the test
But Herod would yet try to take the Savior's life
As Herod preferred hatred, anger and the ways of strife

As Joseph's family fled to Egypt, God chose to provide
All needed to save Jesus, Joseph, and Mary side by side
While Herod slaughtered every single little boy
Trying to deprive the world of the best of our coming joy

The kingdom of this world is doomed always to fail
While the kingdom of God will always in the end prevail
Herod wore the signature of the bestial, bad man
Bringing evil where could as only the truly evil can

Which king then will be the one to rule your life?
Will you serve the ways of peace or live for strife?
What good are riches if these will forfeit your life?
It's truly that simple, will you choose peace or strife?

Surrendering all or living for the rot of that something
That in the end is truly the mirage adding up to nothing
The ways of sin are found in the separation in death
Better than we confess into salvation unto our last breath

(c) December 5, 2021  Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved