We Need To Be Shepherded, Into Our Lord's Bosom. Poem by Michael Gale

Like leaves fell dead upon the ground...
In a land of no dead sound.

Crimes against men, all kind...
Replay, each day, seen over
And over, in stalemated,
Replay, and, rewind.

Crimes, from man, to man...
Because, they will, and can.

Only, God and Jesus, may save...
Our souls, from a Hell, induced
Manner, or slave.

We need to change our way...
So that we'll have, a Heaven
spent, stay.

With our Rapture...
Our time, in Heaven
Will we capture.

In the bosom, of our Lord...
Will, we be shepherded
In His word.