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by Clinton Herring © 2023

We stand before the Living God.
His kindness should reflect from all.
Our lives are nothing but a fraud.
As every man fell in the fall.

God sent His Son to be our light,
He came to earth to shed His blood.
With mercy eyes, He saw our plight.
So mercy might come like a flood.

Without that blood, we all were dead.
No hope had we, but for the Son.
The grave was soon to be our bed.
He shed His blood; His work now done.

It opens up a call to home.
It grants new hope, new life, new sight
And stops our endless, fruitless roam.
And opens up our heart to Light.

Then we fall with an earnest cry,
And know that nothing we can try,
Can bring us home apart from Him,
And save us sure, both life and limb.

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Please remember to mention the author of this poem when using.