My Wounded Soul  
             Wounded Souls

Take courage my love and be of good cheer.  

Redemption is nigh to a contrite spirit. 

Sorrow endures for a night but joy comes in the morning.

Kings of Kings and Lord of lords he’s a conquering lion in the tribe of Judah.

We are more than conqueror in Jesus Christ.
We walk about Zion meticulously hiding in our own mirage. 

Losing sight of many generations, wishing well for the next.

Zion stands alone observed by God. 

Too full of ourselves to walk her ramparts.

Measuring her citadels by our own strength.

With lustful wanting we choose our guide.

Condemning her by battled faults, 

Of many bruised and wounded souls. 

Bewitched from the commonwealth of faith.

Accused of every known sin I take refuge in her reproach. 

Like a cloud of witnesses the story unfolds.

Soaked in blood I observe her fortress.

Her towers of refuge for wounded souls.

Steadfast through the ages and impenetrable by sin. 

Having done all to stand,

 I stand firm on this rock.

On which the church is built.

Jesus Christ Himself the chief corner stone.

And Son of the living God.

Gairey Blake
Psalm 48: 12-13

12 Walk about Zion, go around her, count her towers,
13 consider well her ramparts, view her citadels, that you may tell of them to the next generation.
14 For this God is our God for ever and ever; he will be our guide even to the end.


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