Upon a hill there was a city
Where they gambled for the truth
And greed of gain and market shares
Was preached from every booth
They offered fame and riches
And a life for evermore
'Just leave your soul to us', they said
'Or else, walk out that door'
I stumbled down the hillside
In the rain and heavy storm
I fell, I rose, and fell again
Until the early break of morn
I raised my head and there she was
All dressed in white with crown of thorns
She held my heart and then she said:
'I'll be a shelter from the storm.'
Copyright © 2011 Göran Gustafsson. All rights reserved
'There will be a shelter to give shade from the heat by day,
and refuge and protection from the storm and the rain.'
(Isaiah 4: 6)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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