By Andrew R. Duckworth
With words that calm the storm
But mighty just the same
Echoed a booming voice
That called upon each name.
And in that final hour
All of the nations came-
The wicked and the good,
The walking and the lame.
They said take care your soul.
Don’t treat life like a game.
But I was too busy
Living a life not tame.
So here before the throne,
I’m shaking in my shame.
But I hold no excuse,
Have no one else to blame.
Yet not a word will do,
No good or righteous claim.
I fear His judgment is
My feet will meet the flame.
Poetry of Andrew Ryan Duckworth 