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The Poetry Thread.

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Sorin:
Okay, so here's the thread to post your poetry in.

gmik:
Tonite Shanghai is burning...
and I am dying too.

There is no death so real, as the death inside of you.

Some go down in ashes, some go down in flames.

But most men die, INCH BY INCH,   playing silly games'



readersdigest/anonymous



How I felt before I was dragged to Him
gena

a_child_of_God:
Sorin, your poem sounds as if it could be a song. I also liked the other poem you posted on another thread.

Ruth

Deborah-Leigh:
Great thread Sorin!

Will look at my poetry book and will be posting soon....! :D

...and they who know not
   HE has not forgot

  They smile all the while
  As their souls they defile

  We thank God every day
  That for us ALL HE did pay

Arcturus ;D

Andy_MI:
A Word to the Elect

by Anne Bronte

You may rejoice to think yourselves secure;

You may be grateful for the gift divine -
That grace unsought, which made your black hearts pure,
And fits your earth-born souls in Heaven to shine.
But, is it sweet to look around, and view
Thousands excluded from that happiness
Which they deserve at least as much as you -
Their faults not greater, nor their virtues less?
And, wherefore should you love your God the more,
Because to you alone His smiles are given;
Because He chose to pass the many o'er,
And only bring the favoured few to Heaven?
And, wherefore should your hearts more grateful prove,
Because for ALL the Saviour did not die?
Is yours the God of justice and of love?
And are your bosoms warm with charity?
Say, does your heart expand to all mankind?
And, would you ever to your neighbour do -
The weak, the strong, the enlightened, and the blind -
As you would have your neighbour do to you?
And, when you, looking on your fellow-men,
Behold them doomed to endless misery,
How can you talk of joy and rapture then?-
May God withhold such cruel joy from me!
That none deserve eternal bliss I know;
Unmerited the grace in mercy given;
But none shall sink to everlasting woe,
That have not well deserved the wrath of Heaven.

And oh! there lives within my heart
A hope, long nursed by me;
(And should its cheering ray depart,
How dark my soul would be!)
That as in Adam all have died,
In Christ shall all men live;
And ever round His throne abide,
Eternal praise to give.
That even the wicked shall at last

Be fitted for the skies;

And when their dreadful doom is past,
To life and light arise.
I ask not how remote the day,
Nor what the sinners' woe,
Before their dross is purged away;
Enough for me, to know
That when the cup of wrath is drained,
The metal purified,
They'll cling to what they once disdained,
And live by Him that died.

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