The Lord Knows Who You Are

The Lord knows who you are,
although I might not.
He knows all your sins,
if you never get caught.
He knows of your lies.
He knows who you've killed.
I know that I've sinned to,
but He forgave what I did.
The Lord knows who you are,
and what you have done.
You lie to small children,
and you give them a gun.
You're better off tying a millstone,
around your neck.
You would make them wear bombs,
if it did not way more than them.
Your people are so poor.
You're the only one rich.
Their houses are torn,
and your armies are big.
They try to rebuild,
from the rubble that's left,
but you cannot rebuild with only one leg.
You had your chance,
and you rejected Him quick.
You scoffed at His name,
like it was some trick.
Opportunity came,
and opportunity went.
You tried to kill the Gospel when it was sent.
You'll have to answer to Him.
So don't be surprised,
when He turns you around,
to your final demise.
You thought it was horrible,
the way that you died.
Just wait till your death comes the second time.

To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.