Poetry Archives

Think not because you raise
         A gleaming sword,
That you will win to praise
         Before the Lord.

And though men hail you great
         Unto the skies,
Deem not ’twill ope’ the gate
         Of Paradise.

Though you have gold and gear
         And fame and power,
What odds when you draw near
         The Judgement Hour?

But if in bloody dust
         Yet unafraid
You battle for the Just
         With broken blade—

Then will the Lord look down
         With eyes of love,
And you shall win a Crown
         All price above.