Nowhere there is to hide. This jemstone's done.
The Father's cut this being prisim-like.
His gleaming facets, shine brilliant as the Son,
To pierce and flame all prayers. Heart flames strike
To blaze eternal fires to burst black stars
Who'd seek the darkness running from His plan.
No infinite space between, no distance far,
And no escape from cutting, chiseling hands.
Oh woe to scribes and pharisees who lie
And preach destruction on the innocent.
Oh woe Capernumites who'd faith decry
Condemn that their traditions Christ has rent.
Abundance, sustenance the Lord gives all
Those who abide in Him, answer His call.