The builder


The builder
He carves, planes, fits, smoothens
All to design and build that perfect building
The stones are squared,
Cut-downs are made,
The iron and brasses polished
Measurements have to be exact
It results in a magnificent and ecstatic work

We form the wood,
Glasses, brasses, fittings, etc.
Of God’s perfect building

He planes us, smoothens us
And fits us in his home above
His sanctification makes a final purification
If only, it remains so forever
But humans we are
and offence is relentless but remittable

For we have been selected
To be part of his ecstatic work
Why do we relent, refuse him or denounce his existence?

The work will soon be over
And we’ll be fit for the grand building
Served in glamour
As we sing around the throne
In honour and admiration
To the builder, our King.

 

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