From a door rationed for adoration comes a warship of worship; the art of worship like a painted hart in the heart panting for what it holds dear; not a female deer.
I worship Him, for He breathes in me to keep breeding me; just a fellow sheep in fellowship isn’t how this God sees me. He not only parts the seas to pat my back but backs me on His back, raising my feit with his feat until four feet turns into two fit feet.
The earth’s now full of death but I see cure in Christ who keeps me secure; He be Lord yet came to shed His blood, so I’ll worship Him with a hymn.
El-shaddai says even hell shall die, yet He remains the Rock that rocks through out ages as the Rock of Ages. The sages say ages reveal that His blood-spills on the hill still spills out words that heal.
See showers of rain in this reign, showers of blessings that be, else sin and pain would have been overwhelming
The raised queue of distress experiencing this rest as grace comes to the rescue, I’m aced in amazing grace to grow ace.
*feit : knowledge acquired through study or experience or instruction
*El-Shaddai: Hebrew name for " God Almighty"
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