Loren’s Pages

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Staring out across the land,
people look as specks of sand.
Marching in an endless line,
feeling like a pit of slime.
A million marching through the night.
A million marching without His light.

Darkness swirls and slides and slithers
though the crowd that goes on hither.
Clouds of smoke and darkness shroud
the hope and joy from a dying crowd.
Crying can be felt inside
and in the darkness multiplied

A strong and steady light
suddenly breaks through the night.
Many turn and run away.
They will not, do not, want to stay
Darkness is their place of ease,
burdened with their sick disease.

Some of them turn and see,
life abundant, rich, and free.
A God who came and took their place
In an evil, cruel and wicked race.
Dying for their countless sins
so that they may truly win.