Like
kitten's
paws,
no time for pause, the time
is
running out.
This world's
domed by
as will
fate,
hate,
soon be brought about. If
she should
last,
'twould be a blast,
and
that
do not doubt!
I
The
devil waits,
on those he
hates,
to bring about despair.
But humble
saints,
without his
taints,
escape his deathly snare.
No
doubt remains,
but that his banes, will
end
When
in all that's fair.
nought remains,
of earth's this
last pains,
world will shine
fair.
With surface new, and hearts kept 'twill
be
in Jesus'care.
My joy
will sour,
if in that I
hour,
cannot find you there.
By
11
true,
Erik Mundall
