The Race

The Race

The gun was shot and stride for stride we race

The lions roared but I could feel the Dove

Around we pushed at an outrageous pace

The Angels cheered the demons rose above

His tears of joy poured down from Heaven, Rain

Though faithful to Him goddess on my feet

The Angels have smiles equal demons pain

The taste of Victory was more than Sweet

My honey like blood flowing Fast and slow

The Angels flying in great haste to Light

Now feeling Grace replace the woe

The slow Malignant crawl to fire not bright

The Angels sitting in line of the King

Once he did not believe now all Saints sing

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