Sunday, November 25, 2012
Christ the King
Builders of babel and noise
Fighters and writers and dead
Flattened strains and deadened voice
Even the words of the wise
Warriors painting fields red
Leaders who've climbed to the top
Headed to the land of the dead
While blood from Abel cries
All empires will finally drop
Even Gaea and Uranus will fade
Pestilence and famine crop
Man who trusts in them dies
To us the Ancient One bade
The form of the Son of Man
Salvation has been made
Through the cross of sacrifice
We glory and praise His plan
His kingdom, dominion, and throne
Brought to us, He will, He can
All who trust in Him shall rise
We are never again alone
Belonging to Truth, to Light
He hears our every moan
And guards us with His eyes
And with His piercing sight
His bearing and divine poise
Separated by wrong and right
The righteous shall bear his prize
Labels:
Christ the King,
picture,
Poem
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