Pens Dipped In The Ink Of My Own BloodA Poem by Chris TaylorPens Dipped In The Ink Of My Own Blood a poem by Chris T.
When the cruel pens have been dipped in the ink well of my own blood And all the false witnesses have been brought forth. That’s when the smile grows ever brighter The eyes become a light by which men seek.
If the world’s wise men have gathered together to sign my death warrant And a large hooded man cloaked in worldly wisdom walks down my hall. That’s when I begin to count the golden bricks in heaven. For I am a stranger in this world who can’t wait to come home.
Worldly possessions that I have worked for so hard Begin to all breakdown one by one And last years fashion has to last at least two more years That’s when I know I am cloaked in His righteousness.
When the steps I take are met by all means of resistance And my feet are swollen and weary That’s when the blisters become calloused For each obstacle tells another story about you.
If those I have fed with my own hand start to gnaw on my fingers And the anger directed at me comes from my servant’s heart Then I know the path I am on has the Lord’s direction It breathes new life into a collapsed lung and makes the air a sweet perfume.
When Ramen noodles look like a Thanksgiving cornucopia And knock-off macaroni and cheese are now my main diet Then I will kneel down before God Most High and give thanks While taking my last two cans of beans to the food bank
Oh Lord, let them come, those trials, those tribulations For they don’t know you and your mighty ways Oh Lord, please forgive my assailants For they steal, lie, cheat and pillage out of a need to know you. © 2011 Chris TaylorAuthor's Note
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17 Reviews Added on September 1, 2011 Last Updated on September 1, 2011 AuthorChris TaylorSioux Falls, SDAboutI am a writer, poet, musician of 30 years, husband, father and follower of the Most High God. I try to let my writing point the way back to a relationship with Jesus. When I am not writing I am probab.. more..Writing
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