Poetry

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By the people of strange lips,
A foreign tongue that will speak;
Words as said with little quips,
Unto the Lord that they seek.

God says rest to the weary,
The people would never hear;
For it is dark and dreary,
And to God they won’t revere.

It is precept upon precept,
Line upon line as taken;
Broken and snares the concept,
Feeling God has forsaken.

Hear ye the Word of the Lord,
You who rule Jerusalem;
A covenant is ignored,
With death that you be condemn.

We have an contract with hell,
Overwhelmed scourge shall pass;
Those condemn shall then go dwell,
In forever for trespass.

Since we’ve made in refuge lies,
Falsehood when taking shelter;
The truth we close our eyes,
Disregarding the Scepter.

Behold the Lord is the one,
Laid foundation in Zion;
The cornerstone of the Son,
As guarded against the lion.

Whoever believes will not haste,
Being the precious cornerstone;
Others considered as waste,
To be labeled as unknown.

Copyright © 2025 Richard Newton Sherrer

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