June 18, 2015
To Martyrs Near and Far
The world is weary-worn
Of all this blood and death,
Fueled by hate that spreads
Like dry leaves in the wind,
Wafted among thick clouds
Rising from fires of hell.
Each day calamity uncoils,
A noxious rattlesnake
Seeking its prey to kill.
But though the wily serpent
Strikes the blameless heel,
The head he raises
Feels a crushing blow.
And God’s own spotless Lamb
Who bore our grief and woe
Will reach with nail-scarred hands
To welcome all His children home.
Copyright © 2015 by Teresa Roberts Johnson (All rights reserved)
Angliverse 
Stephen Stults said,
June 20, 2015 at 9:43 am
Beautiful and timely….ty
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