Showing posts with label suffering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label suffering. Show all posts

Tear-Stained Sod

Tear-Stained Sod
Warwick Allen
Saturday, 1 March 2025

[Verse 1]
Oh Lord, You laid the earth in motion,
Spoke the stars to light the sky.
The wind sings endless admiration,
And the mountains testify.
I walked in dust, my heart was broken,
Lost my all beneath Your gaze,
Yet still Your voice, it softly spoken,
Guided me through the shadowed days.

[Chorus]
Great are You, God, in the storm and the flame,
Goodness flows from Your unequalled name.
I lift my eyes from the tear-stained sod,
And sing of the greatness of my God.

[Verse 2]
You let the tempest tear my shelter,
Stripped my hands of fleeting gold,
But in the silence, I felt Your splendour,
A wealth that cannot be stole'.
Your knowledge boundless, wisdom greater,
Beyond what mortal minds can know.
In every trial, I stand and wonder,
At the mercy You still show.

[Chorus]
Great are You, God, in the storm and the flame,
Goodness flows from Your unequalled name.
I lift my eyes from the tear-stained sod,
And sing of the greatness of my God.

[Bridge]
Who am I to question Your purpose?
I'm dust beneath Your boundless flame,
You hold the dawn, the dusk, the cosmos,
And call me gently by my name.
From ashes, Lord, You lift my soul,
Your love remains, it makes me whole.

[Chorus]
Great are You, God, in the storm and the flame,
Goodness flows from Your unequalled name.
I lift my eyes from the tear-stained sod,
And sing of the greatness of my God.

[Outro]
So here I stand, though scarred and humbled,
Before Your throne, my spirit free,
The world may shake, the proud may stumble,
But Your grace is all I see.
Oh Lord of all, of dust and glory,
Forever Yours, my song will be.
Disclaimer

Some lyrics have been generated by AI. The concept, themes and narrative arc are my own; AI just helped with some word smithing.

Sonnet of the Stone

Sonnet of the Stone
Warwick Allen
Friday, 22 August 1997

[Stanza 1]
The weight of the stone, around my heart bound
Is not enough to pull me under, but
Just enough for the chains, my soul to cut
And the load to keep my dreams on the ground.
Sometimes I stand tall, my strength I have found,
But often strength I've none, I'm in a rut,
I long for a haven, a lonely hut
Where, onto a page, my fears and doubts mound.

[Stanza 2]
From this safe place, I cry my forlorn plea
To my Lord, I ask Him to take the stone.
He hears, but He is teaching me to wait.
He wants to use me, now He's moulding me,
Yet He still lets me know I'm not alone,
And from my shoulders He will lift the weight.