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Created on: April 06, 2008
HIGH HORSE OF HEAVEN
He rides upon a spotless mount;
His name is ever True.
The Faithful One, most paramount,
Returns for me and you.
With nail-scarred hands, He holds the rein,
His wounded feet hold fast.
Although He conquered death and pain,
The scars will ever last.
Above the clouds, He pirouettes.
A trumpet sounds the call.
The King whose blood redeemed our debts
Has triumphed over all.
In glowing robes and starry crown,
He gallops His joyride.
The time has come; He canters down
To beckon for His bride.
Then, seated on high Heaven's horse,
The Bridegroom and His love,
They share a ride on glory's course
To regions far above.
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Poetry: Heaven's horse
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