Thursday, May 1, 2014

Master's Hold

What weapon against me will dare bare its blade
  If heavens are bowed by the Master who made
The stars pull apart from their seedy abyss
  and the voice that compelled lips of Heaven to kiss

the earth which now quakes under quivering feet
  laying grip to my soul pressing certain defeat

Hold firm, O my Master!  Hold firm to the wheel
  For my take is unclear on this worn rugged trail