Monday, 24 September 2012

HELP OF THE HELPLESS



Unto our creator we all look
For help from trials that shook
When confused His face we seek
The storm blew hard, all bleak
Helpless against the fear
Downwards roll the tear



A strong tower in time of trouble
When calamity comes in double
When life happens and we fumble
The light bright yet we tumble
Tired and helpless we mumble
Holding on to Him else we crumble



His powers told
His promises I hold
His mercies not sold
Oh what a great comfort
For His joy spread forth
Peace like sweet broth


 Bimbethy ‘12

3 comments:

  1. Now...that's what i call, The Master's Piece. Yea! "His Mercies not sold".

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