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THE WORD.
Woe unto me!
An unclean being.
Being without His presence had I been,
deep into destruction,a bin.
Within me was dug a feeling
of emptiness,
creeping in day to day,
a creeping insect.
Woe to my empty soul.
I sought for Him in pleasures,
for vain glory I ran after
as one chased by seven demons.
I found Him not.
Oh wrenched man,
How long will you search for Him
in the pew?
Alas
A light at the end of a tunnel!
I saw the Lord.
Light crept in,hope crept in.
Emptiness dashing out like a flash of lightning.
An awesome feeling
I wish never to part with.
Seven days I searched,
with the word as my meat for strength
searching for the word
that was made flesh.
Filled with the word,
is my soul.
The precious word that was made to be.
© fortune
An unclean being.
Being without His presence had I been,
deep into destruction,a bin.
Within me was dug a feeling
of emptiness,
creeping in day to day,
a creeping insect.
Woe to my empty soul.
I sought for Him in pleasures,
for vain glory I ran after
as one chased by seven demons.
I found Him not.
Oh wrenched man,
How long will you search for Him
in the pew?
Alas
A light at the end of a tunnel!
I saw the Lord.
Light crept in,hope crept in.
Emptiness dashing out like a flash of lightning.
An awesome feeling
I wish never to part with.
Seven days I searched,
with the word as my meat for strength
searching for the word
that was made flesh.
Filled with the word,
is my soul.
The precious word that was made to be.
© fortune
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