Get Your Premium Membership


Grace is a gift of the strength of God, Bestowed on all those who look upon, The Lord lifted up, who grants redemption, Given through faith, unto our salvation. Jesus took the fault, eternal punishment, pain and fall, Bearing with it, all the trials, turmoil and withdrawals, Accumulated and manifest, because of our falls. The Perfect Lamb, slaughtered in shame, pain and blame for all. Nothing so excruciating, could ever be done, For souls whose fatal corruption in enmity, could be won, But by the saving, sacrificing, righteous love of the Holy Son. Do not mock what He has wrought in agony, for fun! Grace, where art Thou now, my inspiration and power? Why hast Thou turned away Thy face from my brow? Art Thou gone, or dost Thou now bow before dumb idols, for naught? Could it be my unanswered, under achieved, wasted life, sought for, but not caught? May I find my course’s true reason, But for mankind’s very own treason? Could the way before, though it be not mine, Be for consumption, of both heart and mind? Please, for heaven’s sake, feed me a supper’s plate, Which won’t leave me filled with hate, But instead, bring me love with retreat, Which just might, through might, I might eat. For I am empty, eaten through, by starvation’s words, Strategically placed, near the slaughter’s cross, cursed. Now, I await my eternal turn, to follow mine, a martyr’s tale, To defy all the rest of my life, remaining true, yet to unveil. My Lord, Your Grace, be engraven upon my knees, hands and face. I do not dwell upon Thy grief, but to find my own relief. My heart shines now, to adorate and bow. Thy life in mine, I humbly vow; My Grace, Thou art my delight!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.