The voices speak strong.
They shout my fear,
That God does not hear,
That He’s not near.
But are they wrong?
I watch and see to whom they flee.
Where do they go?
They trust in what their eyes can see,
A view that’s low.
They twist God’s power and His glory
To wring out shame upon His name.
And dream up stories…
Delusions… Lies…
And worship something tame.
I bow my head and sigh.
“My God!” I cry.
A voice speaks strong.
If I will yield,
He'll be my shield.
The Truth’s revealed.
Yes, they are wrong.
Becky (Dancingirl)
2 comments:
Beautiful!
Excellent! I especially like the first and last stanzas. :)
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