My Lord, my Lord, my Lord, my friend...
You are so good to me.
You know how much I love you Lord;
For this you set me free.
You took me from the miry clay;
Set my feet upon the rock.
Don't let me fear when you're revealed;
Save me from the shock.
Your gift is dear, for all that hear...
The lovely know your voice:
To choose life, and not death;
It's theirs to make the choice.
Who knows the times?
And times, and times,
And half a time again..
The thief he comes in the night;
To steal what you gave..
But you will rise, to their surprise;
And slay them with your tongue.
The Spirit calls, for those with balls:
Resting in your Son.
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Author:
Valiantstar (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 19th, 2025 03:24
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments3
A poetic proclamation of belief sent in powerful words. Nicely done
This reads like a worn prayer turned prophetic call…gratitude for rescue…“you set me free”…moves into an insistence: know the times, choose life, stand firm. The poem balances reassurance (“set my feet upon the rock”) with a startling edge…the thief, the surprise, “slay them with your tongue”…so worship and confrontation live in the same breath. It’s both comfort and battle cry, tender and unflinching. Powerful work, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️
This poem is emotional, reverent, and vivid, blending personal devotion with scripture-inspired imagery.
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