That Serpent of Old

Way down in the bayou swamps, at the edge of the seat where that old serpent sits, Lived a man cold as ice to the touch, flaming sword with every word from his lips. Traveling all along the mighty Mississippi, up and down the path as he sees fit. Til that old holy night, that serpent he'd fight, in an attempt to send the snake to the abyss. Now way down south on the bayou, they don't know what I do...way down in the bayou swamps, misery is all that serpent wants. A trip across the face of the earth, proved useful to that cajun apostle, at ease his spirit could breathe again, in a world growing ever more hostile. That day the man traveled to the mouth of the river to meet the great evil the snake would deliver, relieved, his nose began to bleed, there was a pressure down there that he couldn't believe, an evil so dark the common man couldn't conceive, controlling the world from underneath that sea, and his seat would remain at the mouth of the Mississippi. That cajun apostle received guidance from above, he was taught by the Lord Who'd contest with pure love. For the planet's fourth Babylon reign had begun, and the purity of man had all been undone. So it is now in the present that this man does stomp, all along the banks of the bayou swamps. Training for the time when that tide does surface, the wicked evil monster whom we know as that serpent........