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Religious War Poems | Religious Poems About War

These Religious War poems are examples of Religious poems about War. These are the best examples of Religious War poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 

Copyright © John Paluszek | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

At The Footbridge

At The Footbridge

Two Armies

One shoots off another salvo
The other fires back with gusto
Each offended
At the aggression of the other

At the footbridge
Foot soldiers die
In agony you hear them all bloodied, cry
War is a must and you wonder why?

Kings collect gold
Queens their ladies in waiting
Castles must be filled
With linens and fine silver laden

All with justifications
For the death of serfs and those of the invasion

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |

War Mentality

They come from a different era
where patriotism is a just cause
they would fight for the true blue
never mind who was right or wrong

they stood staunch and egos proud
their chest out, backs straight and chins up
they come from an old style of thinking
I fight today as my father and grandfather did too.

fighting for an eye for an eye tooth for a tooth
I will die to serve my country even if its a lie
if you try to invade our land
we will come and conquer you

we are defenders of the truth
but the old timers forget
and the young ones have a narrow point of view
there was a time when the immigrants were Irish, Italians and jews

racism was rampant and that hasn't changed
Christians today still preach
'Jesus is savior they say repent your evil ways
pushing their rhetoric just like the roman empire did

amazingly America seems to be doing the same
history seems to repeat itself time and time again
war, religion, oil and what we perceive  as freedom
we invade again and again and call it defending democracy

yet the intelligence comes from spies and other governments
because they have shared interests in different types of policy
they all carefully choose their words
because one slip of the lip could trigger war as it has happened before

todays war on terrorism is a campaign designed  to instill pain 
and un-trust to drain our resources from us 
And our leader claimed up front this is not a religious war
yet he paraphrases from the bible we'll get those evil doers

you see bush fooled our religious leaders too.
he used their belief in Jesus he tricked 'em all just to get their vote
he claims he's a born again Christian and this Christians embraced him holly
but then one day bush spoke to Jesus and asked what to do with Iraq

Jesus responded Invade that country
Now dont get me wrong Jesus was not about war 
he taught of peace, love and compassion
however his message has been twisted and turned over time 

and history shows the hands of Christian religious leaders are always bloody
because they twist the truth to control dictatorship is always the goal
Bush had been plaining war before a judge handed him the seat
on his first day he signed a bill into law prevent any criminal charges against him

Copyright © Ron Flatow | Year Posted 2007

Details | Rhyme |

I'm a Muslim I'm not a Terrorist

I am a Muslim, I’m not a “terrorist”.
How can I be a terrorist
when I’m against all kinds of injustice.

I’m against every act of sin and evil.
I hate all kinds of crime and even loathe
what Adolf did to the innocent Jewish people.

I hate what God hates; He (Allah) hates oppression.
I’m against stealing, against taking away
people’s loved ones and belongings for no reason.

I’m against suicide bombings,
against racism, against ignorance,
against self-harm and even derision.

What God hates I hate and God (Allah) hates
oppression. I hate it too when people fight
for foolish nationalistic reasons.

I’m a Muslim; I follow the true religion
of mercy from Allah the Most Merciful
Who simply wants us to answer His Call
to believe in Just One -Just One God of all.

So don’t call me a “terrorist” when I clearly
don’t have a ‘mass destruction’ weapon
and my goal in life is to
be with our God (Allah) in Heaven.

Copyright © Mariam Mababaya | Year Posted 2012

Details | Epitaph |


Here lies the best Grandfather,
One who was very considerate.
Remembering him as a child,
I would sit on his lap.
He was a rare person indeed.
He was a colonel in the Army.
Also superlative of a gentelman.
Here lies the best grandfather,
May he rest in peace.

Copyright © Sarah Cassleman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |

The Butterfly and the Drone

Part 3 to, Thunder and The Future Soldier, a Trilogy

A wee little boy
From the other side of the world
In the hills of Virginia
Where serenity and calm reign

He meanders home from school
Baseball was such blast
All boys should be sentenced to such enchantments 
He smiles, as his eyes gleam at father’s computer

Wow, a video game he sees
How I love those games he exclaims!
Curiosity has captured his imagination
As he plays with mouse and joystick

Far far away, in the land of ISIS
A jeep filled with soldiers
Whose only goal, is to fulfill their hatred
Allah they say, when it’s only narrow minds they worship

A drone fly’s overhead, surveilling these routes of ancient hate
Silently filming the movements below
Now we have an eye on the devil, from afar
Our heads in the clouds no more

The little boy is good at this game
He has played super Mario and more
So he takes his best shot
And KABOOM  the jeep of devils explodes

The drone fires his missiles
Obliviating those inhuman targets below
Command and control in shock
The drone was unarmed after all

The little boy jumps in glee
That video game was tons of fun
Through an open window
The Butterfly flutters overhead, 

A silent smile

Justice undone, now restored

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014

Details | Dramatic Verse |

The number the brand

When I met her , a very old lady she was , yet inside lay a frightened child .
I felt my heart cry , I felt as if I was touching history itself , as I made this older lady, child,  chai .

I remember the day , and so many tears I have cried
I have cried before she and I met 
As a child , so many tears, left confused inside .

Not understanding Why , and how could we stand by and live our lives as if this never happened ?

It happened , we are left in dismay of the movies seen the accounts taken of History 
My self ..I have caught stereotyping the very people whom did this to she , the rest of her Family erased .

The white candles we light , we try and forgive , or just simply block this pain out completely.

It occurs , over and over , as it has been said History will repeat .
When thinking of my children , when I think of that little girl losing ,  cold and scarred , feeling only defeat .

There is a lesson here and I pray , that all whom have been taken from life , have no pain and are gifted spirits throughout eternity . May they be warmed with love,  and reunited with the ones they lost .

The first time I met her , her old hand I took and warmed it with mine , I held it for a long time . 
You could not,  but notice ..the Evil imprinted on skin , the Evil only to remind.
This very old Soul , in her eyes you could see . 
The child that once lived , so innocently free, not aware yet,  of the Hostility .

I speak of a Little girl, I speak of a old woman , I speak of a Jewish,  chosen Religion.

There as I held her frail , old hand  , a brand , a number stamped in Evil a long time ago .   In 1945  , once in our distant, yet Frightening  past . 

We should never forget , never forget it happened , never forget all the names .
If we do , we have learned nothing , A World living in Shame .
                                " Etta Babooshka Kofman  "

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic monologue |

The Duchess Of Paradise

She's highly sophisticated and full of undefiled wisdom
Yet a crowned Duchess in a paradise kingdom
Quite a beautiful angel flying with black wings
Covered in gold jewelry and precious things
She dresses like the women of ancient Egyptian class
Her wealth is generous and her money grows like grass
She loves orange scented candles with dark room flame  
She rules thirty legions of soldiers and Bune is her name
Her comely warrior voice can wake and relocate the dead
Her armies of soldiers gather around the cemetery
She is brave and deserves a princessly crown on her head
Her facility of speech and flair for words is legendary
A beautiful queen to be treated with respect and honor
Instead of blasphemy,wanton abuse and fictional horror

Copyright © Bill Kim | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

Draw A Better Picture

Is it her calling?
I was just drawling
pictures of my feelings.

All these killers and retards 
we should be healing,
Insted we are keeping 
them from the world.

Tis it was the greatest story ever told
until our memories were sold.

Help us, lord
ashes to ashes 
and dust to dust
are the words.

I'm speaking to the nation
about a lost generation,
built off of freedom and innovation,
that was sweeping the nation
during the emancipation proclamation.

Copyright © Blake Holland | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |

Peace Within

As I woke on Xmas morn, all was quite still, 
my breath on the window, crystallized in the chill.

With the Soldiers so far away, many did feel,
the distance had made the war seem surreal.

The war they are fighting, I fear may have no end,
the fanatics that feed it, do not understand.

The Human race is meant to be free, 
to make choices and have dreams, for others to see.

Their warped sense of values is not in the Qu ran, 
Muhammad's (PBUH) teachings are not kill, then run.

He had many wives whom he honored quite freely,
the love he felt for them all was as Thaira (pure), as a lily.

The fight he tried to teach, this war of Jihad,
is the fight of the good, versus the bad.

Is, meant to be fought inside of each man.
Within his head, not in a desert, in a far off land.

My prayer for this Christmas for all to join hands, 
No matter the religion, no matter the clans.

May the peace we all want be within our grasp,
may this fight on terror, and within be won at last.

Thank You God, Yahweh, Buddha, Allah, I say this with reverence,   
Call Him Jesus or Krishna, whatever your preference.


Copyright © Kathleen McQuillen | Year Posted 2015

Details | Lyric |

The Coming of the Nothing

Collegiates and learned mercenaries
Await their time to lead the willing minions
As lemmings, suicide seems ordinary
Both deaf and blind, devoid of all opinions

Ageless as time itself, she waits
An elixir of evolution
Needing no cure, no answers
No humankind solution

What stops us moving forward
What keeps us all enchained
What keeps the starving hungry
What drives a world insane

A galaxy here, a universe there
Speckled by constellations
But man it seems is content to fight
For the sake of his small nation

Black as an empty starless night
Deep as the hungry ocean
Timeless as death, on its endless flight
In a time of perpetual motion

What stops us moving forward
What keeps us all enchained
What keeps the starving hungry
What drives a world insane 

When will it end, God only knows
As greed alone inspires us
Old Earth, its very soul exposed

Copyright © peter walsh | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

My Father's House

Father's here and also there.
I've come to see Him everywhere.
The flowers that bloom, the birds that sing;
Natures' gifts His bounties bring.

An angry sky, a perfect storm;
His children quake as dark clouds form.
Fury reigns and day is night.
God sends His son to give us light.

Then threats are thrown in someone's face
And lives are lost without God's grace.
A father grieves and women weep.
A child cries out in its sleep.

Should God alone the earth repair,
The poisoned air and land laid bare?
God left the earth in mankind's keep.
What man has sown, so shall he reap.

July 5, 2015 

Copyright © Janece Terry | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |


Are we awake or are we still sleeping?
Blind to the hurt, and deaf to the weeping.
Ashamed of religion and supportive of the new,
Aware of the lies and hidden from what’s true. 

Worship the evil and turn away the pure,
Developing disease with an unknown cure.
Starving the poor and overfeeding the wealthy.
Killing the sick and drugging the healthy. 

Going to war for some kind of power,
Building tall structures over all types of flower.
Cutting the trees and polluting the air,
All out of greed, with no sort of care. 

Turning us against our own, 
And help from up above.
Making us beings of hate,
Instead of ones of love. 

Demonizing the mystic,
Criticizing the wise.
Making our own family members,
Into people that we despise.

Awaken to the torment, 
Be aware of all the pain. 
Those who are misleading,
And claiming that we are insane.

Copyright © Alyssa Waters | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Bombers Moon

Them and us under a Bombers Moon
By Steven Cooke

Making love to my demons
Under the flag of my country
Caught in between the never believer
And a pardon of angels,
Who bargain their souls for my redemption,
Empowered by a nation,
Glorified by heroes departed
My life sanctified by religious compromise
For tonight I fly, under the bombers moon

Nearer to God than most
I see the world differently,
This Earth orbits in a sea of cold
My plane hidden in its recess,
A place where silent screams dwell
And rainbows are sent to die.

Away from the gaze of my enemy,
A phrase worthy of the Devil
Away from the patriots sting,
These too, sanctified by a religious hand.
The History books dilemma
My run begins
My mind listens to a confess of whispers,
The engines my Priest,
The bomb doors open,
Horsemen of The apocalypse,
Released from their tethers
I am the Arbiter of Death
As in Nature, Chance will decide
The faceless will fall
And god willing I will return home.

In the scheme of things
A Cities worth is one minute, 23 seconds
The camera to record in slow mo for Posterity,
And to delight the victorious.
The Impact sweeps away the sweat of past generations
Creates queues of ghosts, waiting,
 To lay in row after row, of white marble.
Their silent screams absorbed into Heavens Gate,
A cold Hallelujah for God to judge.
Just another day on planet earth

But don’t worry,
Time, like, the brook of sighs, will wash away these sins
But not the seeds,
For we are the gardeners of sin,
Their germination, lovingly corrupted
In our differences, them and us
The Pillars of capitalism our advantage.
The fear of the Devil theirs

Our final epitaph in the circle of life,
We are conditioned to repeat the mistakes of the past,
As is the Wilder beast to cross the River of Death,
Or theologians using religion as a weapon of war
The devil and the Crocodile dines well, on such a menu 
We truly are, a blessed Race.

Copyright © steven cooke | Year Posted 2011

Details | I do not know? |



The caustic tongues of the evangelists,
Across all creeds and faiths,
Seem as brittle as an old bone.

For they promise heaven and they spew forth threats of hell
While neglecting the words of that man who walked in Galilee

'let him who is without sin, cast the first stone'

the caustic tongues of the evangelists...

across all religions
new-age and the ones of old
baffle me even as I hear
a single simplistic sermon

for they really do, view us all
as blind imbeciles
scurrying around like faithless vermin

the caustic tongues of the evangelists...

wag on and dazzle us with visions of an eternal paradise
while here and now
their hypocrisy festers
within their earnest
well-meaning eyes...

'...dil mein hai khwaaish-e-hoor-o-jannat
aur zaahir mein shauk-e-ibaadat
bas hamen sheikh-ji aap jaise
allah-waalon se allah bachaaye...'

'...in your heart you desire the maidens of heaven
yet in the now you practice the rituals of piety
o' sheikh, may allah protect me
from the people of allah like yourself...'

is my tongue as caustic as the tongues I write about?
if so, then glad am I
for they shouldn't be the only ones
who preach and rant and continually shout

from their pulpits ever so high in the sky
from their hubris of comfort in possessing the 'truth'

from their 'knowing' that heaven or hell
awaits both the strong as well as the meek

while oblivious to the reeking foul smell
that encourages prejudice and hate
and visions not of peace
but of endless chants and prayers

which they, in their opium haze
rattle on and on
as they never seem to cease to speak

and though I’m sure that all this bile that I have spewed
will threaten
and offend

friend and
unfriend and
acquaintance alike


take pity on me instead
for it'll surely be I
who'll burn eternally
impaled by a benevolent god
on a slightly warmer than normal day in hell

on a crude wooden spike.

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

The New God

You're a voyeur at best!
Your vampiric heart beats out of your chest
Ready to consume the final climax
I know who you are - when the lyrics fail to resemble
Letting your poison drip straight from your lips
Portraying, entertaining the image of sex's delusion
You know only rape - manifestation of hate
Lack of the fruit of the beauty of a human mind
Depths you'll never penetrate!

She was only a doll - type of a lost father's adore
Impaled into a desperate whore
Shamefully out of broken safety's  choice 
She bore embryogenesis of morose
May your rusty blades caress as they please

So confront the masses with the halt of embryogenesis
Let the worship of machines be
Leg them construct us cell to cell
Nature's just in the way
Of our race of perfectly engineered machines!
The burden of conception
Surrenders to the will of
The New God

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen | Year Posted 2012

Details | Dramatic Verse |

War Of Hearts





Copyright © Carma Reed | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic Verse |


The innocent child still crying,
That you nailed up on your wall,
Her tears are freely flowing,
As the autumn leaves do fall.
The wind of time still blowing,
Across the lonely way,
As the soldiers march to battle,
On this bright and sunny day.
I couldn't get the words,
To leave my knotted throat,
I couldn't get my loved ones,
To leave the sinking boat.
I couldn't think the thoughts,
That could protect me from the light,
Couldn't see your beauty,
Hidden in my night.

And now the end is coming,
Riding on the wind,
To blow away illusions,
To blow up everything.

The riders horse is thunder,
The swords are flashing high,
As the angels of destruction 
Fall from the darken sky.

A million times I told you,
Whispered in your ear,
A million blessing hidden,
Behind the demons of your fears.

The innocent lamb is bleeding,
As the lightening flashes by,
The autumn leaves still falling,
From the sadness in your eye.

more at http://labyrinthoflies.com

Copyright © ness tillson | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |

I have fallen

I have fallen

I have fallen; this death I despise.
When I have fallen; will I rise?
Will I float up, above the skies?
I have fallen…will I rise?

Arise titan!  You are strong of heart!
Arise puritan!  You are pure of thought!
Arise illumini!  You are the light in the dark!
Arise I tell you!  This is the end of your war!

As I get to my feet, I am lost in a thought;
Am I strong enough?  To rise once more?
Once more the time has come, to draw my sword.
Once more I manage to make a stand;
Never again shall I fall.

As angels lead me throughout Heaven;
I am surrounded by light, in search of family and friends.
As I am lead into the afterlife,
I am told my new life has just begun…
And there will be no end.

(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © Aa Harvey | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |

Kisses from a Religious Con-Man

a transcultural talented conman
with red ruby lips, that could make any developed woman cry
kisses that, more than could blow the mind
payed for in Abrahamic religionist gold
kissed me only to tear at my unknowing soul  
i (I) kissed a hired dick with no morality, to bee (be) in hand
and he touched me like i was a new religious chocolate
i kiss a handy con-man
with skin as brown as tea
he made me feel i could be
beautify, black candy, appropriately me

and i learned that the world
will come at you with implied, dick in hand
so i kissed a handy symbols of a devote man
who was hired, to play me, like
i was a American ethic vocation band!

Copyright © verlecia fields | Year Posted 2012

Details | Romanticism |


I Samson Josephat  Manyala,
The author of 
"Salome The Beautiful Princess",
With a subtitle
"A dedication To The US Armed Forces",
An anthology live online today,
Kindle Edition,
With any among my songs
So genius  written
And generously offered to U.S.A,
In that online book,
After seven years of determination
And sacrifice,
To make it live online
And, up to date.
I declare a defeat
And regret!

I declare,
The sufferings and pains
You brethren endure
When escaping the war ravaged lands,
Tattered houses
With streets littered with blood
And full of a strong smell and blasts,
Hoping for 
"America a cool shade",
As I wrongly mentioned
In that my online book,
And suggested to 
All suffering human beings
As a place where
"The world walk in smiling".
I hereby denounce myself,
The forty-fifth
White house policy
Which has proved me a liar!
Shame on my pen!

I declare to any 
Who had previously downloaded
Or Wish to download it today,
Tomorrow or days after,
I Samson Josephat Manyala
By this poem,
Permits you 
To re-print the subtitle
Of your personal downloaded copy
From "A Dedication To  The US Armed Forces"
To  "Dark Days For A Shamed Pen"

Today's policy of America
On the crying suffering mankind
Reminds me of
My late girl friend,
A Muslim and a refugee
From Congo D.R.C. Back 1994,
And whom I loved like it can never repeat!
"To Halima Omary I write:
I can now see the fear
Which had befallen you on your run
As a female,
A teenager by then,
A Muslim 
And  a refugee from D.R.C!
My beloved,
Our sons Omary and Selemani
Are thriving well.
They are the today's models 
Of Christians
Holding Islamic names in my village chapel.
I have kept the names for your honor.
I found your Quran
To be a testimony of Jesus the Christ!
And along my bible
I am uplifted highly spiritually.
Rest in peace my love!
When the trumpets blown
We shall rejoin again.

Shame on my pen once again
For it took me too long a time
To see the danger
Around the gay minority
And admit that
Some are born so!
For sure,
I only came to know this
After witnessing some single males
Who have direct allergy to females
And resort to live lonely
And those cried that 
They found themselves so!
For sure,
These persons 
Should not shed blood 
In front of our eyes.
Much prayers are needed
And security protection
To give them chance of accepting 
As a savior who changes lives.

Copyright © SAMSON MANYALA | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |

2 - Messenger from the Dead

There is no power in death,
great enough to stop youth.
From what must be done,
souls taken one by one.

If God should stand in the way,
clear the path you will go away.
Should I contend with this power,
no choice it is the devils hour.

When the wicked rule in time,
deception reigning of crime.
There will be a stand instead,
where I gather the vengeful dead.

Amongst in Hell that we cower,
our vengeance will grow louder.
Strong enough in legions,
numbers increasing regions.

Then the wicked will fear,
what is about to come near.
No where near closer to home,
inside Hell's nightmarish tomb.

Copyright © Eternal Victor | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |

At Heaven's gate

At Heaven’s gate.

Heaven is rumbling with a commotion;
The news is quickly spreading, prepare for war.
Heaven’s gates are locked to all intruders;
False soothsayers did not say this day would come.

Heaven’s people are in a state of fright,
As the angels take flight, to guard the light.
Hell’s doors have begun to open once more
And from his throne he bellows orders to go and shed some blood.

Laughter, mocking, shouting, sobbing;
Sounds of death are drums of war.
Iron bars defend the gateway to Heaven;
From Satanic soldiers, marching on Heaven’s door.

Guard Heaven’s gates from inside;
With weapons created by smiths, in times of yore.
Generals lead your angels into flight;
For death is once more creeping, once more seeking.
So let no beast become your plight.

Armies march on Heaven’s gates and for God’s sake,
We shall stand as one; whilst their army stands alone.
In fear they shall march to their deaths and in God’s grace,
The darkness shall be repelled and laid to waste.

No fallen angel shall stand face to face with God;
The Devil was banished long ago to the netherworld.
Another attempt to claim Heaven for himself;
But the condemned shall never rise from their pit of Hell.

(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © Aa Harvey | Year Posted 2016

Details | Dramatic Verse |

Doctrine of Death

Open the book of wars,
tally up the numbers of the dead
Close the doors to the peace talk room,
have no one record what is said
They don’t want you to hear about
the sacrifices that will have to be made
Somebody gotta die for the cause,
so order more body bags til the bill is paid
Leader Man,
go preach the doctrine of death
War Physician,
tell them it’s good for their health
Political Doktor,
sell people bottles of placebo Strangelove
Sadducee Coroner,
Pilate rinse your bloody latex gloves
Close the book on the last war,
most killed in the shortest time did it take
Open the pit to its bottomless core
Lovers of war, strange bedfellows do make — 
They who started the nuclear fires,
let them get tossed into the brimstone lake

Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2017

Details | ABC |


i fell in love with a suicidal dream
i went to sleep with a homocidal scream
i woke up with a genocidal fantasy
and i can't believe its real...

its like a suicidal dream
and its come to real
im in a homocidal scene
with a genocidal fantasy...

~care bEar

aka charlie aka lucky aka skittle aka big penguin aka control presenter aka 

Copyright © renny goonerage | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |

bitter sweet words

Embellished, shined, publicized

Display put on their empty core

Listen! You must abide laws. (Seize!)

The narrative of freedom, a screen.

Adore something you know nothing about

Honey like texture of sweat and sour

Fools your taste of flavor, makes you devour

Your truest nature, freshness, born greatness.

Smell their petals of fragrant flowers.

Hear their robust voice, a rallying cry

Rejoice in their sweet flavor of right.

Layers and layers on top, engineered

Made to seem bright, a call to arms. (To our demise!)

Heed the bitter sweet words

Their sentient nature,

Their abomination of truth.

Copyright © dorian grubisic | Year Posted 2017

Details | Pantoum |

My fight for salvation

In my mind feeling like I'm left all alone To fight for salvation with the demons below My heart once a diamond now turns to stone Thanks to the pain and suffering I'll undergo To fight for salvation with the demons below My debt of sin I must find a way to atone Thanks to the pain and suffering I'll undergo So I pray for the glory of Gods good grace My debt of sin I must find a way to atone My heart once a diamond now turns to stone So I pray for the glory of Gods good grace In my mind feeling like I'm left all alone 5/22/2017

Copyright © Jeremy Smith | Year Posted 2017