You bring that fricative to my lip and teeth
when you lash at the sin that stirs beneath
    which bubbles up with one swell pop
    and sprays decay on the clean clear top.

I have it managed just so and start
to believe that I am not a part
    of the groaning mass that hurts and waits
    for freedom beyond these bars and gates.

Exposed I thus the fricative make
which hisses the downfall of all at stake;
    My kingdom crumbling, I would defend
    to my own destruction and damnation’s end.

Strike, LORD, the rasping from my soul
which breaks the surface like a mole!
    And give me true, real cleanliness
    of Jesus righteousness.

This love will always, always have been

This love will always, always have been.
And I praise the one who made it so.
For whatever evil may come between
– foxes or sund’ring or death itself –
the facts of days can not be unreen,
nor taken from the page bestowed.

Though the days themselves pass gone,
their thanks will ring for eternity
and no foe can steal what’s done
– the times and gift that were given me.
Now to Yahweh, the eternally blessed one,
beyond all seasons, unending glory be.

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