Salted Ground

Image like water, of sword,
Lavender gardens and warriors in sand,
Crimson red petals, a rose bush’s spine,
Effuse with mint and lasting like pine.

This is the salted ground,
Hallowed, but assaulted town,
Scronful adversary paints the frown,
This meager band of pilgrims never backs down.

Humanity’s aground,
This sand bar escaped the sound,
Depth miscalculated, crowned
With mischief, intimidated by our enemies’ hound.

This is the salted ground,
Hallowed, but assaulted town,
Scornful adversary paints the frown,
This meager band of pilgrims never backs down.

We’ve knighted our most frightened,
Intimated with our deathly blight and,
Scorned a higher Power’s mighty Hand,
Building levers just to lift up from the sand.

This is the salted ground,
Hallowed, but assaulted town,
Scornful adversary paints a frown,
This meager band of pilgrims never backs down.

Washed away like blood on the floor,
Father remembers our iniquity more,
He’s already forgiven us for,
Beating, berating, crucifying His Adored.

This is the salted ground,
Hallowed, but assaulted town,
Scornful adversary paints a frown,
This meager band of pilgrims never backs down.

Thorned bush produces a rose,
Born again through tribulation throes,
Sharpness of your thorns, only heaven knows,
It’s the sweet smell of the garden that our Father loves.

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