Conrad Larson

Conrad Larson 3d

On days when the sun kisses your face,
And triumphs cadence warms your base.
When every deed seems sovereign, sublime,
And the world before you, bends to your rhyme.
Repose, reflect, let pride abate,
For your mortal feats cannot negate,
The unreachable depths of divine embrace;
Even at your zenith, you need His grace.
No Everest scaled, no laurel gained,
Can render grace diminished or waned.
Your finest, though bright it may burn,
Is but a flicker where grace sojourns.
For His grace eternal, transcends all height,
A luminous balm in darkest night.
It girds the soul, unseen and profound,
The ceaseless force upon which your bound.
Relinquish the myth of self-contained might,
For even the stars borrow heaven’s light.
So bow to His truth, let arrogance cease,
For none surpass the need for peace.
In life’s crescendo, His hand I trace,
Towards my father forever I give chase.
In search of my God, I’ll always keep pace,
To let my life be a heavenly showcase.
To never forget what on the cross took place,
No heights I reach will ever replace,
My unending need for his boundless grace.

Conrad Larson 5d

Truth in the Mind Lies

You stupid piece of nothing
The voice repeats inside,
A shadow clinging closely
Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide
Every mirror turns to daggers,
Every step feels out of place.
Why try when failure’s certain?
Why hope when you’re a waste?
But deeper than the venom,
Beyond the storm’s refrain,
There’s a voice that calls me softly,
Through the chaos and the pain.
You are fearfully and wonderfully made
My hands wove your heart with care.
In your darkest self-loathing chambers,
My Child, I am already there.
Before your thoughts could hurt you,
Before the shame took root,
I knew you and I loved you
You are more than what you do.
I argue with the whisper,
I drown it in my doubt.
But it waits, it doesn’t waver
Its mercy won’t burn out.
You’re not the sum of failures,
Nor the weight of what you lack.
You are My beloved creation,
On you I will not turn back.
The insults keep on coming,
But now they meet a shield
A truth that’s deep and holy,
A love that will not yield.
I am more than the echoing hatred,
More than the lies I believe.
I am known, and I am cherished,
In this truth, I’ll learn to breath.

Conrad Larson 5d

Spiritual Hamlet

Beneath the willow’s weeping shade,
Ophelia drifted, unafraid.
A crown of flowers graced her hair,
Yet sorrow’s weight had led her there.

The water beckoned soft and low,
Its currents pulling her to woe.
Like sin’s allure, it whispered sweet,
Yet trapped her soul beneath its feet.

Her garments heavy, drew her down,
The flow embraced her like a crown.
So too does sin, with quiet art,
Ensnare the soul, betray the heart.

The fleeting beauty she displayed,
Was like the life in sin arrayed.
A fleeting joy, a fleeting peace,
Yet death’s dark shadow will not cease.

But Christ, the Lord, has called us near,
To cast away the drowning fear.
His blood, the stream of life divine,
Redeems the heart, restores the spine.

No willow bows where grace is found,
For mercy lifts what sin has drowned.
Ophelia’s tale, though sad, may be,
A warning turned to victory.

For every heart that drifts astray,
A Savior waits to light the way.
So leave the stream, the depths, the night,
And step into His perfect light.

Conrad Larson 6d

Gods Fighters

Some are born not to rest, but to rise,
Not with the ease of the fearless or the strength of the wise.
But with a gift carved deep in their soul,
A fire, a grit, a warrior’s role.
It’s not in the power of muscle or might,
But in the refusal to surrender the fight.
God in His wisdom forged them in flame,
A mettle unyielding, a spirit untamed.
Life will come, relentless and vast,
Trial upon trial, a merciless blast.
They’ll bend, they’ll break, they’ll bleed, they’ll fall,
But rise again, standing tall.
Perhaps they’d wish for a gentler path,
A road untouched by sorrow’s wrath.
But warriors are shaped by battles countless,
And their enemies that stand before groundless
The hardest trials are sent to the few,
The strongest souls who will see them through.
For God’s own fighters, though battered and scarred,
Bear the weight of pain as a badge of the hard.
You may feel shattered, weak, and torn,
Yet in your struggle, strength is born.
What you’ve endured has made you strong,
A testament that pain won’t last long.
So when life’s storms rage, and hope feels thin,
Remember the steel God placed within.
Your battles have purpose, your trials a plan,
For only the toughest are called to withstand.
Do not give up, for you are His own,
A warrior of grit, forged by the stone.
Pain is a tool, shaping your right,
And you, God’s fighter, shine like a light through the night.

Conrad Larson 7d

No Words to Pray

I knelt with empty hands and hollowed heart,
No words weaved, no prayers to start.
My tongue was still, my soul unspoken,
A vessel, a spirit broken.
The weight of silence pressed my chest,
No eloquence, no voice confessed
I searched for phrases I couldn't find,
A prayer unformed, lost in my mind.
But in the quiet, a warmth arose,
A familiar presence my heart still knows.
No perfect lines, no rhyme to share,
And yet somehow, he was already there.
He heard the ache I could not name,
The quiet cry, my hidden shame.
You wiped the tears I hadn't shown,
The depths of me, you've always known.
So I sat, with hands held wide,
In you my God, I always abide.
In the stillness, your love is clear,
My wordless prayer reached your ear.
For in my void, you still speak,
To my heart, compared to you, so frail and weak.
No crafted speech, no grand display,
You heard my soul that couldn't pray.

Conrad Larson Dec 2024

The Hunter

The hunter tilts on the wind
It’s body a blade of silence cleaving through the
measureless blue
Its wing, wide and ragged bear the purpose
Of an ancient design, an immaculate weapon
Gods perfect hunter
The shadow cast by it but a fleeting brand on the earth it roams

Beneath the hunter, in worlds below, its prey sprawled in breathless hush
Thump thump thump
The rabbits heartbeat a taut rhythm
A primal symphony of fear
Music to the hunters ears

Time falters, moments tense
The hunter eyes twin augurs
Scrying death from the vault of heaven
Gods judgement upon the beasts below
Power and poise incarnate

Then the dive comes
Time comes too slow yet too fast
The air itself seems to spilt
As if the hunter is not moving through the blue
But dragging the skies themselves down with it

Talons strike, flesh tears, bones break
A flash of motion honed by divine destructive design
A precision that knows no mercy
And shows no falter
Only hunger
Only the law carved deep in years of known
The hunter has its victory

The skies exhale as the hunter lifts up into them again
Its prize clutched within its vice
The world below thankful for its safety again
The grasses sway in its wake
Bowing before the hunters might

Conrad Larson Dec 2024

Loving The Betrayer

He sat among the twelve, the betrayer unknown,
His heart concealed, his sin not shown
But Jesus, knowing all, with tender grace,
Met Judas’ gaze and held his place.
No word of scorn, no hint of disdain,
No bitterness marred the love maintained.
He washed his feet with the same gentle care,
As though no betrayal was hidden there.
At supper’s table, His voice soft and kind,
He broke the bread, His love intertwined.
“This is my body, broken for you,”
Even for Judas, the promise was true.
To love your enemy, to bless the one,
Who trades your life for thirty silver and none.
This is the measure of love divine,
To hold no grudge, to give no sign.
When Judas kissed Him in the garden’s deep,
Jesus met him with eyes that weep.
“Friend,” He said, as soldiers drew near,
A word of love, untainted by fear.
And so the secret remained untold,
For love like this is pure as gold.
To love as Jesus did, so real and true,
To bless even those who betray you.
For in His grace, we learn and see,
If Jesus can love a betrayer like Judas
Then he can love a betrayer like me