The Dying Slave Poem by Michael Walker

Certain sins death certainly beget,
Once we have consumed forbidden fruit,
The consequences of sin to forget,
As well as the Slave who is in pursuit,

Presenting to us every blessed thing,
Which we could ever wish for, if we trust
That if we our souls on our Saviour fling,
Lust must not burn us back into the dust.

Thus, did Our Saviour become our Slave!
That we may live our lives abundantly,
If we only accept the Love He gave
That we may be with Him eternally.

I stretched out in sin like the dying slave,
While my Slave was dying, my soul to save.