Even At The Doors

Don’t they see? Don’t they hear?

Lord, Your coming is so near

Earthquakes in diverse places

Heartache and hatred on their faces

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Germs hidden away, air tight

Masks come off though during the fight

Quiet the riots dear Lord

Then may they hear Your Word

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Stop the fearful webs from spinning

Show them all no one is winning

Is it time for iniquity to abound?

Has their love waxed cold; never to be found?

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Will the cold hearts hear Your trumpet’s call?

Or will You tell them depart, I never knew you at all?

Your heart breaks at the beginning of sorrows

For you know they are running out of tomorrows….

Amy Blount July 2020

Images found on the internet.