My God In The Furnace

 I listened to the voices, that said I could not.

I heard what they said and I

stood on the spot.

I thought as a friend, they would sharpen my pen.

But all they poured, was food from the den.

I searched in the crowd, for someone with love..

But the familiar friends, were not from above.

The masks were their shield, to hide all their sin..

Wherever they went, to draw the weak within.

From days on end, I was rejected and used.

For those who gathered, were there to abuse.

Though heat from the fire, was sent to destroy.

My God was in the furnace, to eradicate their ploy.

Justice and vengeance, are not mine to give.

For I have a Saviour, who says that I will live.

All that I seek, is in His mighty hand.

Verily, verily, by faith I will stand.

Though cut to the core, by my enemies at will.

I press on each day, to inherit my thrill.

My prize up in glory, will forever be wed.

For the God that I serve, is risen from the dead.