Simon Miller
Simon Miller Poems
What is man, that thou art mindful of him?
and the son of man, that thou visitest him?
For thou hast made him a little lower than the angels,
and hast crowned him with glory and honour.
...
Oh, my angel, if life was half as sweet
As the time I spend by your lovely side!
Life’s challenges I would willingly meet,
Made easier when you with me abide.
...
Where is your victory?
Where is your sting?
My Savior has come
You have no power
...
The Fire grows hotter
And the Pain rises
To an unbearable level
But the pain is nothing
...
The Best Poem Of Simon Miller
Alone
From the innocent infant,
To the ages of elders,
We are never enough alone.
Eloi, my Salvation,
Take this mess I call my soul.
Form it in the Potter's Hands
Into something you desire
Into something beautiful
In birth alone,
In death alone,
We are less
We are weak
We are lower
We are nothing
Eloi, my Salvation,
Take this mess i call my soul.
Form it in the Potter's Hands
into something worthier
Into something You desire
Into something beautiful
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4/26/2024 2:06:22 AM # 1.0.0.1119
