FM ( / )

I Run The Race

One hundred evil hands reach up
They try to pull me down
One thousand hands reach from the sky
And lift my weary soul on high

There is a heavenly host above
A glorious cloud that covers with love
That sees your struggles and your fight
As the darkness comes against the light

But I will rise and not stay down
I will get up and claim my crown
And whether I am rich or poor
In Christ alone I will endure

I may be naked but clothed in light
I may be distressed but still ready to fight
I may be cast down but not defeated
For I lift my eyes to where Christ is seated

For in this vessel dwells heavenly treasure
Tis Christ alone who is my measure
For light is my affliction and Christ my story
I run the race for eternal glory

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Comments (1)

This is an excellent and even more excellent poem my fellow writer. Very encouraging for a Christian, such as myself. Keep Writing! ! ! !