Which innocent person,
Died an untimely death;
Because their health worsen,
Prior to their last breath.
Find me a decent man,
Who has been defeated;
But still has a firm plan,
That must be completed.
Whenever I do see,
Those plowing wickedness;
A yield that is not free,
Harvest under duress.
With His breath God destroys,
A single blast of His wrath;
For His voice He deploys,
Malice upon their path.
Though roars of the lion,
With a ferocious growl;
Guards the gate of Zion,
From evil on the prowl.
Young lions lost their teeth,
As old ones ate their prey;
Nothing for to bequeath,
When seeing their last day.
The young cubs have scattered,
Secretly from their sight;
Abused and have been battered,
By evil in the night.
Disturbing thoughts at night,
Heard whispered in my ear;
To tremble in the light,
And to spiritually fear.
Something stood right in front,
An image I could see;
A soft voice that was blunt,
Asked a question to me.
“Are you righteous to God?
Can you ever be pure?
Can you honor and laud,
Not tempted by a lure?
Copyright © 2016 Richard Newton Sherrer
