Grace Killers

Into The West

Waiting

For Hope Did Die

After the Waters of Rest

 By Mark Bishop

Through the valley of deep darkness
Round the twisted mountain peaks
Where the shadows jest and cackle
while the timbers sway and creak

where is your staff to still my mind
to lead this journey bleak?
This fear will overwhelm me
please take my hand for I am weak

You say your love's a perfect cure
a balm for haunts and demons
And as my heart sinks down this road
so your mercy deepens.

It is true that fear can wrack the mind
and melt the heart
It can plague a noble journey
Make me run back toward the start

But fear can't overtake me for my life is in your hands
And though all hell assail me I know my bulwark stand

In The Shadow of Death

Psalm 1

By Mark Bishop

How blessed is he who follows not the words of a wicked man

who keeps his feet from treading where the sinners often stand

He will not take the seat of a scoffer

Instead he loves the way of God who's words he ponders all day long

Like an oak by a gentle stream who's roots run deep and strong

He grows by living water

And yields a faithful harvest as the season comes to him

His vibrant leaves shall not decay but life is found in every limb

Whatever this man does shall prosper

For the wicked man it is not so he's chaff swept out when strong winds blow

He will not stand before his judge instead his lot is pain and woe

There are no sinners where the righteous gather

For the way of the godly is regarded by the Lord

But He shall end the wicked's way and all that they led toward

All apart from God shall wither