The Impossible
No weapon formed against me
could ever think it would win
Because my Jesus, my Lord and Savior
will fight till the bitter end
He'll fight all my battles
and my victories will be sweet
I'll hang my trophy on the spoils
and my smiles will be so sweet
I'll cross my legs and rest my bones
as Jesus goes to work
And wipe the sweat from my brow
no battle does He shirk
He'll use all He knows
to run those evils away
Then high-five me with the Holy Spirit
and tell me to have a blessed day
So Satan I'm not worried
about anything you might do
Cause if you near this child of God
my Jesus will take good care of you
By clarksdalepoet
© 2009 clarksdalepoet
(All rights reserved)
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