Sparks (or not)
Emitted from the fire, their tiny illumination endures for the briefest of moments…then, they are gone

The Sentinel

she walks the wall

she guards the hall

while we in our complacency, distracted by our haste and glee,
(of looming danger unaware) party on, without a care.
But searching eyes and sober hands are ready for those evil plans
though harm may never rear its head at all.

In sorrowed times
when spirits are low

And dark and cold
have dimmed the glow

When hearts know naught but pain and grief, and deep despair beyond belief
the soul a scattered mass of rubble – uncovered, naked, and vulnerable,
A sentry spreads her mighty wings, her flaming sword…it fairly sings:
“Touch not the mortal being who kneels below !”

The high and mighty
have their fame

Kings and queens
their vast domains

Riches, fame and glory shine on those who seek them by design
The spotlight warms the pretty face, the powerful take the highest place.
But in shadowed nook, sword in hand…quietly, faithfully the guardian stands
In the vaults of heaven her reward remains.

~  ~  ~

“He makes his angels as the wind and His (ministering) servants flames of fire…are not all angels ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation?”

Hebrews 1: 7,14

2 Responses to “The Sentinel”

  1. Bro! I cried on reading this because I know that in the silence of the warrior is the ethereal war!

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