Jan 20, 2021
“...before they believed, and walked on the sea, they took a class on wetness, and grew content to read.”
Hymn
The word is a sword, double edged and here.
But can it cut through a heart, hardened by fear?
The word is a sword, swung from the lips.
But what good is it for, if everyone lives?
The word is a sword,
this world our battle.
Will you turn to the Lord,
or will you turn unto cattle?
The word is a sword,
who bucks your best tries.
To saddle it down,
when attempting to write.
If the word is a sword, will you be a sheath?
Will you lamb for the Lord, and not make a bleat?
While the vain bleed into a bucket of rites,
and rituals; dying to be a living sacrifice.
'It’s not about works', say those working
the word like Berean’s, who always made certain,
before they believed, and walked on the sea,
they took a class on wetness, and grew content to read.
The word is a sword.
And it sits on a desk.
Getting studied to death,
'stead of pointing at necks.
Tabs
- -
- -
- -
- ————6
- ——7,9
- -7,9
- -
- -
- -
- — 6,9
- ———9,7
- —————9,7