PHOBOS

Like a minnow, floundering, gasping,
Thrown upon the shore;
Like a sailor, cold and sinking,
Hears the angry billows roar;
Like a child, lost in the city
With not a friend in sight;
Like a boy out in the graveyard
In the darkest part of night;
Like a soldier in the battle
With comrades fallen, ‘round;
Like the timid rabbit,
Fleeing from the hound;
Like fear and desperation
Brought forth in solid form;
So, man in sin, must flee from death
As birds before a storm!

BUT, Those in God’s own bosom,
Like the sleeping child at rest,
Need know no fear, but only peace
Drawn from the loving breast!
Like the child who fears no darkness,
When led by father’s hand,
God’s children walk with peaceful hearts,
Through a treacherous, sin-cursed land.
For the hand that guides us daily
O’er the treachery of life’s bars,
Is the hand that holds the world in place,
And holds up all the stars!
It lifts and guides and steadies;
Wipes all our tears away;
His hand holds mine! Death holds no fear!
He’s with me night and day.
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