By Andrew R. Duckworth
When forests ran with blood and fire
I dove into a bright sapphire.
Emeralds turned both black and gray
Upon the Earth’s funeral pyre.
But I remembered at long last
That precious blood spilled in the past
And washed away the sinful stains
And caught me in the net He casts.
I’m not a perfect man at all.
I’ve tried like hell to build my walls
While spending days in sapphire rays
And avoid the voice of the One who calls.
But this fearful man now understands
As best as any fearful man can
That only One saves from what’s to come
Should I take His reaching hand.
So, as destruction met the sea
I prayed He would grasp hold of me,
Remove me from fire and sapphire
And free my soul eternally.