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Rated: E · Poetry · Religious · #1772082
A poem of how I was saved. Acrostic.
You are the one, who called out my name, when I thought that I'd never hear it again.
Only your blood can cleanse and can save, and cast out the demons that dwell in our hate.
Under your sky, so far from your grace, we sinners somehow have forgotten our place.

A love so pure, a heart oh so kind, a voice that called life to both space and time,
Rough as I am, impure, and unclean, still you sent down your son to deliver me.
Every ear, that listens and learns, connects to a heart beat that hungers and yearns.

Thankful words could never serve you right, so forever I'll shout my praises on high.
Hallelujah to the King of Kings! You are my life, my love, and my everything.
Endless blessings to him who falls, down on his knees for the great Lord of all.

Onward I'll press, heaven as my goal, t'ward the place where the streets are all paved with gold.
Never again will a worry or care, tempt me away from a dwelling up there.
Even through thick, and always through thin, somehow God my Father will help me to win.

© Copyright 2011 Chandler Harp (rawrsalot at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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