Isaiah Thirty-three

The lame take the prey
Oppressed have their day
And none who thwart justice
Will last.
Unquenchable fire
The Lord in His ire
Avenging the pain of the past.
A Man is the cure
With fresh waters pure
And shade from the cruel
Desert heat.
His Spirit will win
Exposing all sin
Dread armies collapsed in defeat.
A City He brings
Where real freedom rings
And He is the
Final resort.
No other can rule
No bully or fool
It’s His throne, assembly and court.
No warships approach
No chariot or coach
No bribes or
Corruption concealed.
But songs fill the streets
As fierceness retreats
And meek ones
Forgiven and healed.


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