Long, O Lord, have wicked men
Killed the poor and needy.
Long, O Lord, have we asked when,
When will you judge the greedy?
Pouring forth from wicked tongue
Loud curses on the poor.
Evil men waylay the young,
They’re heeding your laws no more.
All day long the helpless cry
Pleading for mercy’s face.
But by evil hand they die
Never once receiving grace.
Quit your silence, Lord, my God
And judge the wicked soul.
Long on good men have they trod
And have never paid the toll.
Run to help the fatherless,
Quickly, to give them aid.
Stomp down the mischievous,
Help the poor souls who have prayed.
Scourge the land of evil plague.
Rescue the innocent.
Letting not thy voice be vague,
Proclaim with holy descent
You’ve long heard the poor cry out,
Sounds reaching holy throne.
Then from heaven with a shout,
Descend to protect your own.
This poem is taken from my book A New Song, (Westbow Press, 2016) and can be found online HERE.