Satans Hands Poem by norman hale

Satan has His hands out
Reaching for us every day
We just have to learn
How to turn Him away

He reaches way out
To find our every need
Then comes sneeking around
To plant His seed of greed

He whispers in our ears
Trying to lead us a stray
To drag us on down
Below the earthly clay

If, you let Him get a hold
He'll never let you go
He knows the more He wins
The stronger He will grow

Don't you listen to him
Or his evil ways
Or you'll regret it
When it comes Judgement Day

Listen to your heart
And follow Jesus too
For He and our soldiers
The only ones willing to die for you