bottle of tears - suffering, pain, sadness, wickedness, evil

Bottle of Tears

My body and soul wither in pain
As they bear the weight of worldwide shame.
Greed, murder, abuse, and lies
Permeate the world beneath the skies.

Screams of fright, ghostly whispers
Travel through my mental rivers
My heart with indignation quivers
While my soul in chilling heartache shivers.

Innocent lives, destroyed every day -
Silent little lights, snuffed out without say.
Muffled cries from the sick, small and weak -
Too young to understand, too tender to speak.

Their bones crushed like grapes, to render Man's wine
Their blood rashly guzzled up - drunk by the swine.
Their frail tissues crushed, and disfigured their spines -
Their bloodshed a mass in Man's barrel of crimes.

The murder of mankind - full-fledged or small
Does not slip past the eye of the Master of All.
For He watches the lilies - the sparrows that fall
He observes all creatures, He hears every call.

Not one little bruise, cut, or lie does He miss
But His eye is in Heaven and in the Abyss.
There's not one hole of earth veiled from His holy presence
Nor valley in which we cannot find His essence.

All evil of flesh and the world will be thrown
Into fire, before our Lord's holy throne.
And all that will live will be souls He has saved
From the power of sin, of death, and the grave.

The blood of His precious ones He will avenge.
And all will be rectified, healed in the end.
When God shall His servants around the earth send
And gather His children up from the four winds.

No bruise, tear, or scratch escapes His watchful eye
His vision extends through the earth, Hell, and skies
No thing has been hidden that won't be made known
No evil or wickedness said, thought, or done.
For all is laid bare at the throne of the One - 
Forgiveness will be for those found in the Son.

Our tears are stored up in His heavenly bottle
He knows all our pain, sees our loneliest troubles.
In short time, He will call His followers home
And into His presence, ever before His throne.
Where sorrow and sadness will never more be known.

The gauntlet of pain that we run in this life
Will mean little to us on the eternal side.
The horrid injustices shown to the poor
Cannot start to match all our Lord has in store
For those who are His, and will be evermore.

© 2018 Kate Richardson All Rights Reserved

 

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