With gasoline burning on the fire
white hot flames reach still higher
Anarchists play throughout the streets
and do so safely, no small feat
Their evils evidence their depravity
which only points to real humanity
Oh! such were some of we
thinking we loved so freely
“Burning, burning” is their cry
as false freedoms are decried
Let them have their “liberty”
so they can feel true cruelty
“Nothing makes sense to anyone, anymore”
a cruel lie to make hidden what’s in store
Necrotic flesh will feign its victory
while we the free perish in the fury

Our war of worlds will never end
if on sword or blood we must depend
Our war is destruction to chained, dead souls
which feel alive and in control
Our war is war, but we refuse to fight
but praise with lips that don’t speak life
Our war with them is a war within
the very hearts we yearn to win
Their conscience seared still boils
and Christ may yet still till the soil
Their conscience condemns like Adam’s fruit
which bitten once reveals them nude
Their conscience numb and fading fast
bravely scolds them at present and past
Their conscience may wound them still
if it be the Lord’s gracious, mercy filled will

There’s war which often draws our blood
without a physical stab or cut
We fall like soldiers on fields of war
too often caught playing the whore
Shall I spell it out for the sake of truth
with tainted tongue and point made moot?
I am a sinful man whose conscience screams
though given grace and hopeful dreams
I yearn for days of rest from sin
and Jesus reigns from deep within
But I rage and toil in the war of worlds
and fight to surrender to the Lord eternal

May Christ, my Saviour and my God,
strike my flesh with iron rod
May He help me love Him more, still more
that finds me awash on mercy’s shores
I’ll hold fast and firm until my end
though my grip may fail and I offend
Nothing in my hands I bring
only to the cross I cling
May Jesus receive me, naked and alone
though I wrestle till the Spirit groans
I love you, Lord! I love You, still
may your will in me be yet fulfilled
May it be ever so
though my love I fail to show
Make me Yours in thought, word, and deed
and give to me a holy greed
That I would strive for every gain
in fellowship with you through joy and pain

Cliff Tomkulak