One King Mightier Than I
Eternity's vast weight of time
is pressing dark against my breast,
and brooding powers wage within
a ceaseless struggle, dearth of rest.
A crown of shame enwreathes my brow
with thorns, a piercing diadem,
the symbol of self-monarch reign;
fear's rose the circlet's black-starred gem.
Oh, who can free me from myself;
who can the worth master be
to lift the victor's standard high
above the conquered ruins of me?
A crown of thorns was His before;
His throne, a cross against the sky,
the humble Christ who I have found
the one King mightier than I.
Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright, 1987
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