Poetry Break (The Victor Lives in Me)

It has been a while since our last one...

The Victor Lives in Me

What confidence we have

in laying claim to the Blood of the Lamb
A foolish boldness
A wreckless audacity
Almost a holy arrogance
That is born of abandoning myself
To the one who humbled himself

To call it confidence is far too little
Hope can sound too much like a concept
To a simple man
Exhausted
Left face down in the muck
Body bruised and barely breathing
Yet gasping in joy and exaltation
To hear the accuser finally cast out!

Choir of angels and saints in awe of this upset
The triumph of the Victor who fought for me!

A mercenary of light
Hired by the Father
His wage the Father’s Glory
And the hearts of those the Father gives Him
Dumb and hard-hearted I hardly know Him
Though he comes to me often

He won not only this cosmic battle
He won my life as well
And so I live no longer I
But the Victor lives in me!