Where I stand is not a place of illusion;
It’s a path that was chosen by the final solution.
The Creator of wrath, yet nothing but love,
A righteous Judge who sits above
On a throne made of light
That drowns out the blackest night.
I rise from the ash with a storm in my chest,
Carved by the battles that put me to the test.
I walk with the scars that the darkness designed,
But every wound is a warning that sharpened my mind.
The fire I faced wasn’t meant to consume —
It was forging a warrior the shadows assume.
Now I stand in the blaze with my soul burning bright,
A lantern of truth in the jaws of the night.
The power you see when you look at me
Is not me — but He.
He who strengthens the weak, calls the meek,
Finds those who seek and lifts them to the peak.
So when you see me rise and take the win,
Know it came from a power within —
But not one of my own making.
The Victor is only His for the taking.
Every breath I draw is a borrowed flame,
A spark of His glory that bears His name.
My steps ain’t guided by fortune or chance,
But the hand of a King who commands circumstance.
And when I rise from the dirt, when I stand again,
It’s His strength that carries the weight of men.
I’m a vessel of fire in a world grown cold,
A story of mercy the prophets foretold.
Mind like Solomon, heart like David —
Blessings of the Lord so I’m ready to hit the pavement.
Stand in the alleys and the trap houses at night,
A shadow-born warrior bringing His light.
Preaching His truth to the broken and lost,
So they don’t sell their souls just to pay the cost.
I walk through the dark where angels tread slow,
Where the pain runs deep and the cold winds blow.
But I’m covered in grace, armored head to toe,
A messenger walking where most won’t go.
I speak to the fallen, the bound, the unheard,
Watch shattered hearts resurrect at His word.
For the King sends soldiers to the hardest streets,
Where the devil sets traps — but the Lion still eats.
The Lion of Judah who sits on the throne
Calls to all His lost children: Come back home.
So when you see me standing with pimps and thugs,
Remember who Jesus walked with to show love.
Not condemning the sinners, but those acting as saints —
So when you judge someone for the demons they suffer,
What kind of picture does that paint?
I walk with the wounded, the cursed, the betrayed,
Where the world’s cold hand left them broken and frayed.
And I tell them their chains aren’t the end of the fight,
There’s a Shepherd who leads even deep in the night.
It ain’t about judging the hurt that they face,
But lifting the veil of His infinite grace.
Every scar tells a story heaven still hears,
Every lost soul is precious when the Savior draws near.
So if you’re one of God’s soldiers feeling the pull to the dark,
Maybe it’s not meant to smother your spark —
But to bring His light where the fearful won’t tread,
To walk into places the timid all dread.
For His grace is enough and He’ll carry your fear,
So you can do as you’re called and make the truth clear
Angry_Elf
