The Dark March of Time
My wrists are bound with shackles,
The Chains pull me forcefully forward,
In front and behind, my neighbors all walk.
I can hear their agonies, and pain and grief,
We plead for mercy, to end our despair.
Yet Time pulls us on and on.
"Why are you so cruel? Why so uncaring?"
"I am, It is, but great was your rebellion."
"But it was not me for the cause!"
"Not me who deserves such cruel injustice!"
But then in my heart I see a beat,
The rhythm, of that dreadful insurrection.
The thoughts of my mind rise up to self-exalt
and so convicts me to this march.
My eyes awaken and I see the view,
The land of torment awaiting.
But oh so gloriously, before that may come,
a man does stand to set us free.
He stands by the way, with judgment in hand
to save poor sinners like me.
Through much toil and great pain,
we go along our march, pressed on.
But there is a One who may set us free
Though our rebellion cost Him so much.
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