Lure

Carnal atrophy of the spirit is sin like fallen limbs from winter needing glean and yet still reaching upward for redeem subservient, still rebounding for esteem! The will of man's invention starts the ream pursuing some ideal beyond review, yet all the earth waits solemn masking scene, my life in Christ no different, no ensue! The spirit is greater than man's vane esteem and spirit does choose its vessels, lesser lien, to ward off compensation from false mean, my spirit, the lover of my soul, swept clean! Lost bounty, the horizon breaks extreme while warfare plunders, Satan preys again, the truth, Christ risen, does not mean the end, as bounty hunters lure with fools' pretend! Our one brief happiness spied out our Amen, while luring healed occlusion to its end!