Maker

The suspense is killing me
The thrill of victory
Or the agony of defeat
Both fleeting;

A chance meeting -
Or better said
A providentially ordained encounter
I meet my Maker
The day I died was just the beginning
Of a resurrection in the making

Old ways forsaken
I've got a renewed mind
A new heart
My eyes are wide, awake
And my name is engraved
On the palm of his hand

Indelibly scrawled in blood -
But that was the plan all along
To bring mercy to the unmerciful
And give rebellion a new song

"Worthy is the Lamb who sits upon the throne!
From age to age, the Everlasting One
Who raises children from the stones!"