No weapons

There are no obstacles To the one who is God’s tabernacle For He dwells within her, Therefore she will not be moved. She is as Zion, mountain of the Lord. She is incorruptible, born of the seed of the Word. There are no limits, To the one who is of one Spirit, Who is fashioned from the very Rock of ages, Whose voice silences the boasting of the water that rages. She rides triumphant over death and hell, She sets the captive free and locks darkness in its own cell. There are no barricades, To hold the one who broke death’s gates, And to his Ecclesia he has committed the keys, For to rule and reign after his pleasure and will. She is impenetrable and impregnable, The hounds of hell cannot prevail against her. There are no weapons That can prosper, no matter the form or fashion, For she is garrisoned on every side by the angelic, At her command,

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Just Because

I stood before the courts, Before the endless stares of my accusers. They sat ready to scorn and mock, Fingers pointed, fierce and with no love. I stood without an attorney, Who would plead on my behalf. I stood as guilty as the sky is blue, I had been selfish,  greed was my hue.  They looked menacing,  ready to devour, My sins stacked high from ceiling to floor.  I stood alone,  none came to aid me, All my wealth and glory,  all had failed me.  Friends and family were far away, Death and hell would have their day.  They pointed to a cup that hosted my grief, My days as a rapist,  a liar,  a thief.  They said,  drink up you insolent wimp, They threatened me with death’s fiery whip.  But Mercy said No. For one as the Son of Man drew near, Bruised and Broken,  he walked in without fear.. His eyes burned bright with love for me, I

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