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Swashbuckling Faith by Joy Wieters The coward cringes at the sword of death, But I stand, and hold my head high. I will not be caught in that dastard's grip, For in dying I know I cannot die. My King is more powerful than them all, Even their strength bonded and allied. I will not fear the foul breath's whip, As surely as God is my Guide. I will not fall - I will not falter, Sure as sun comes every morn. Every wave and sunset shows us, Just how beautiful our Lord. And one day I'll be myself before Him, Kneeling at His elysian throne. I do not know the depth of these waters; Judgement may only be post-poned. And so I look into the face of the devil, A liar - misleading by design. He offers death by naming it life but He won't suppress the nature of Divine. And so I sit upon the deck, tho neither Dying nor dead. I'll take the dive. My King upholds me, though some say He won't, But my swashbuckling faith keeps me alive. |
Please contact Joy Wieters at "joy4kittens@sherbtel.net" to request permission to use this poem.