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If Would be Late


As each day passes us by, watching our country fall,

Spoken words and actions late, so much do appall.

No leaders left to steer this ship, all to stray so afar,

No captain strong, all moves us wrong, till hits a bar.

The watchful ones, as sentinels all, know this is to be,

The lighthouse devoid of its beaming orb is not to see.

Over raging waves, our vessel shakes, without a sail,

The crew moving slowly in the dark, are bound to fail.


The dreadful waves take their tole, tearing all apart,

The ship may sink, our fears are real, now do start.

Unless a savior will appear before is much too late,

The bottom of a thankless sea, soon to be our fate.

Then remembering we all have faith, sees us through,

More than hope, a strength to live in all we say, to do.

A captain hails, is now the one, guides us in the storm,

Leads us in the thick of it all, a brighter day does form.


Who might this fine captain to be, this you might ask,

One with such superior strength, to meet each task?

Is the one and only, our God is He, before does stand,

As was in prayers, answers did come, to be so grand.

One true captain to guide our way, as life seems to fail,

Our Maker, Creator is He, above all, He does so prevail.

Prayers answered, in harmonious accord, He does avail,

So rights our ship in all of life, He, the wind in every sail.

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