The Bride Awaits: Psalm 46

The temp’ral fabric of my life
    Is nevermore the same.
Past happy times, now days of strife,
    No solid stitch remains.

The ground, it shakes beneath my feet,
    The trees, they tumble down.
The earth, it burns with fervent heat,
    All covered by death’s gown.

But I’ve been told there is a place,
    A rock to stand upon,
A place to ever go for grace
    And see the new day’s dawn.

A fortress built in heaven high
    That never shall be moved,
It reaches down from holy sky
    Its strength is ever proved.

This place, this fortress of the Lord
    Keeps me in troubled times,
Through days when on my life is poured
    A punishment for crimes.

My guilt will someday pass away.
    My life will he renew.
In stillness then I’ll hear him say,
    “I always did love you.”

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