Poetry

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In the Lord I take shelter,
How can you say to my soul;
To flee like helter skelter,
In a chaotic control.

Flee like a bird in the air,
For the wicked, bend the bow;
Prepares an arrow to dare,
Shoot in the dark where hearts flow.

If the mountains are destroyed,
Then what would the righteous do;
Causing a spiritual void,
Since man can never construe.

The Lord is in His temple,
Sitting on His Holy Throne;
His eyes can see His people,
His eyelids test them alone.

The Lord will test the righteous,
But His soul hates the wicked;
Violence will find His justice,
As His wrath has convicted.

On the wicked shall rain snares,
Coals with fire and sulfur;
Scorching wind to one who dares,
Who make the righteous suffer.

Because the Lord is righteous,
As He loves the righteous deed;
And the upright are precious,
Helping each one to succeed.

Copyright © 2021 Richard Newton Sherrer

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