Poem

Count Me In – Ruth Johnson

Count Me In

Dec 6, 2019 10:59 AM
Ruth Johnson
O my Dear Lord,
My heart grieves with Yours,
Aches inside my fragile frame!
But I know truly
Yours aches more,
We can never be the same.
I love You, Lord, You Most High
With Your Dwelling in Your sky,
I love Your Son, the very One
Who came to ground
For a warning to Sound.
Wisdom and the Spirit
Married in the air,
When it is all over
They will not tarry there.
They will help us to recover,
Help us to discover
Why we were put here,
Not just a taste
In a world full of fear.
O my Lord Who Art in Heaven,
Very soon to Face the seven,
The very ones that fell so hard
On Mt. Hermon’s peak
And played their card.
I understand You need us,
The Highest in the Universe!
To beat this foe, for it is ours,
And so many of us
Do not even know!
Here am I, I stand strong
I do not want to sway,
However I know we all will sway
On Your Mighty Day!
Help us recover,
Allow us to discover
The Way You Planned It To Be.
This earth is a glimmer,
Only a shimmer,
A mirror show, a travesty.
O Lord in Heaven,
About this seven,
The one and then the six,
All their spawn, all their pawns,
All their truly sick,
They will not stand
On Your Last Day,
Judgment from You, Lord,
Will give them no sway.
We will fight, too,
Your earthly crew
From wherever we are told to stand,
Prayers, supplication, 
The Lord’s Own Sword 
Working in our hands!
Those are our weapons
Straight From The Almighty!
If we do not use them
We will be deemed flighty!
O, my Lord, help us stand
When the trumpets sound
Throughout the land,
And the ground shakes
Like never before
And will not again
Forevermore. 
O, Our Father, help us stand,
Even the ones who do not understand
Your Ways are way better
Than what the seven have planned!
To a man, to a woman,
This earth was given,
Not to them.
They stole it and abused it,
Kept us in chains,
For thousands of years,
And now, very little remains.
The fish are dying, 
The seas are red,
The air is metallic,
Trees are dead.
The harvests are flooded
Or just dried up,
The whore of babylon 
Still drinks from her cup
Of blood, of spoils, 
And longs to top it off
With the souls of the righteous
Who are not giving up.
The One with the White Horse
Has mounted,
His armour is in place.
His robe is soaked with
Deep red blood,
His two edged sword unsheathed.
A Name is Written on His thigh,
He is King of Kings
And Lord of Lords.
His eyes are blazing fire,
His head wears many crowns,
Miriads of warrior angels
Follow Him around.
They are prepared,
Always have been,
To take this enemy down.
We must learn
How to stand with them,
A formidable spirit force,
They are on our side
And forever abide
With The Heavenly Father,
Eternal Life Inhabits His Source,
And we can abide with Him
As the enemy never may,
We have this chance
To live forever in peace
And too many are tossing
That chance away!
O my Dear Lord!
How to reach them?!
Before it is too late!
Why, oh why can they not see?!?
The fallen are at our gate!
You have shown us mercy,
Compassion and patience
But how long Will You wait?
Why do they not see?!
A seed becomes a tree!
A tree bears fruit that holds a seed,
Nothing stays the same!
These rebellious ones never grow!
Christmas, Easter, year after year,
Apocalypse ignored!
I ask You, Lord,
How do they not get bored?
And open their eyes and look around!
Open their ears and hear!
The bells are tolling
Around the world
And of You they have no fear!?
My Lord I stand with Thee
To the best of my ability.
You are the Finest Father
To send Your Precious Son,
Our Brother, our Best Friend.
I will stand with You
Through the bitter end,
Then for forever,
If You count me in!
Thank You and Amen.

1 Comment

  1. MJ

    Amén! That is my supplication-to stand for my Lord. To give me His surety…His peace…in that dark day. Here I am Lord…frail in this earthly garment of flesh. Thank you sister…for your beautiful poem. You speak for many , that I am sure of as we face these dark days that are upon us.

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