There will be days when the darkness will claim the right ,
of the day ,
to refuse it’s light ,
for in these times when our dying embers burn,
Stoke the flame .
There will be days when our bodies ache with all the strains of worldly pain and dark days with all their pleasures Will enthrone ,
but for now ,
yes for now ,
hold fast to love .
Then there are the darkest days in the battle fields the Spectors lies
Seem oh so real ,
you fall once again for his slithery hook ,
but still the cavelry marches on
And we play around with sin like building blocks
that leave our pens wide open ,
and the rattles we shake are venomous snakes ,
which leaves our bones abroken ..
For you can’t see what has happened here ,
for all is dark and filled with fear ,
when you can see no silvery clouds above that starry hill ,
the sun moves ever on .
Yet we see only ghost riders near when their horses nostrils flair ,
and a frost covers the icey air ,
for daylight is oh so near ,
beyond the black clouds that we hold so dear ,
our Cavelry marches on
For in. your mind all you seek is rest ,
from the ghosts and Spectors you once called guests ,
run .
And so you hear the Cavelry charge ,
the clink of armour ,
the sword ,
the steel ,
50 ,000 angels near ,
In light the sun rises like a King ,
Sword held high ,
the spectors death .
Valor and integrity rise above their defeated foe .
So as the sun rises to Colours that stretch out the land ,
to crimson blues and golds ,
in Christ the victory march unfolds .
Oct 20, 2019
Oct 20, 2019 at 2:05 PM UTC
There will be days when the darkness will claim the right ,
of the day ,
to refuse it’s light ,
for in these times when our dying embers burn,
Stoke the flame .
There will be days when our bodies ache with all the strains of worldly pain and dark days with all their pleasures Will enthrone ,
but for now ,
yes for now ,
hold fast to love .
Then there are the darkest days in the battle fields the Spectors lies
Seem oh so real ,
you fall once again for his slithery hook ,
but still the cavelry marches on
And we play around with sin like building blocks
that leave our pens wide open ,
and the rattles we shake are venomous snakes ,
which leaves our bones abroken ..
For you can’t see what has happened here ,
for all is dark and filled with fear ,
when you can see no silvery clouds above that starry hill ,
the sun moves ever on .
Yet we see only ghost riders near when their horses nostrils flair ,
and a frost covers the icey air ,
for daylight is oh so near ,
beyond the black clouds that we hold so dear ,
our Cavelry marches on
For in. your mind all you seek is rest ,
from the ghosts and Spectors you once called guests ,
run .
And so you hear the Cavelry charge ,
the clink of armour ,
the sword ,
the steel ,
50 ,000 angels near ,
In light the sun rises like a King ,
Sword held high ,
the spectors death .
Valor and integrity rise above their defeated foe .
So as the sun rises to Colours that stretch out the land ,
to crimson blues and golds ,
in Christ the victory march unfolds .
