At the altar of a holy God,
the knees of man do quake
in silent supplication
for a nation at its wake.
At the altar of a holy God,
the heart repents of pride
professing of the blessing
by the Spirit that’s its guide.
At the altar of a holy God,
man sees ambitions twist,
releasing what was leasing
the perdition of his list.
At the altar of a holy God,
man empties all he is,
to take the cup
that ushers up,
to drink of what is His.
So bellows this poor fellow
with a sorrow in his song,
acquired from ancient Adam,
in a garden going wrong.
I hope I shall return to thee,
and taste a greater fruit-
a pear tree unpolluted,
by what’s suited for its root.
-Amy Struthers
(Painting by: Bartolome Esteban Murillo)
Right Handed Rhymer 
What a wonderful poem.
Perfect rhyme and rhythm of words made me speechlessness
LikeLike
*sleepless. (damn auto correct) .lol ,😂😂😂😂
LikeLike
Merci beaucoup, Suyash. As a writer, this is an encouragement to me 🙂
LikeLike
Thank you Soo much for your Soo kind words
LikeLike
Oh no! Here’s to a peaceful slumber. My apologies in keeping you awake 😂😂
LikeLike
😂😂😂😂
LikeLike
No problemo 🙂
LikeLike