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Praise the Lord O my soul, And let Him take control; Through this life and the next, As it seems so complex. I want my voice to raise, Singing music to praise; For as long as I live, Because God does forgive. I do not trust people, That pass by the temple; Most of them are afraid, And would not render aid. When they breathe their last breath, In the ground a cold death; On that day comes the end, No more can they pretend. Bless those who get their care, From the Lord who will share; Their hope rests on the Lord, Requests are not ignored. He made Heaven and earth, Giving us a new birth; All on land and the sea, In the air what you see. The Lord rules forever, His reign cannot sever; He has preparations, For all generations. Copyright © 2012 Richard Newton Sherrer Vote for this poem
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