I’m
in the trenches Lord
Do
you smell the stench of battle here?
It
clings to me, permeating every poor.
I’m
tired and my supplies are running low
My
mouth is dry and parched
But
I look around me and I see them
Dead
or dying lost and lonely souls
My
heart breaks to see their pain
And
so I endure the sounds of terror
Bullets
flying in the night
Bombs
exploding often near
And
weariness moves to overtake me
But
if I sleep the spiders will eat my flesh
So
too the force of evil ever present
I
brush the dirt caked hair from this one’s face
And
look into the eyes of one You love
No
hope is seen there underneath their burden
Of
long endured onslaught from the enemy
My
offering simply given, mercy and grace
A
balm to those who would just accept it
But
seen as nothing more than simple aid
In
the face of deadly wounds and no releif
It’s
oft rejected, thought to have no worth
Still
I linger and give comfort such as I have
To
bind the wounds with my own bloodied hands
And
hope the reinforcements soon to come
Will
bring the succor with their newly obtained life
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