On The Edge Of Eternity Poem by Timber Koleden

When one is on the edge of eternity
When death is closing in, and all noise is drowning in the din
And the enemy is driving you to the sea

When hope for going home is gone entirely
When desolation is all you see, there is nowhere to flee
And the dawn shall never rise again so fiery

Fold your trembling hands to pray so quietly
That from sin you might be free, forgiven indefinitely
That angels might come down amid monstrosities

And gather up your soul in their shining wings
And fly beyond the farthest star, to that land so fair and far
Where you might bow before the Holy King of Kings

A sinner washed in the blood forever clean
Of the lamb who for sinners died, who was torn and crucified
Who made the Way for the desperate soul to see


Fold your trembling hands to pray so quietly
That from sin you might be free, forgiven indefinitely
That angels might come down amid monstrosities

And gather up your soul in their shining wings
And fly beyond the farthest star, to that land so fair and far
Where you might bow before the Holy King of Kings

A sinner washed in the blood forever clean
Of the lamb who for sinners died, who was torn and crucified
Who made the Way for the desperate soul to see