A war through praise
Raised always
To the Ancient of days
To set the atmosphere ablaze,
Setting divine grace
Loosed in every phase
To grant us all we chase
'Coz breakthrough's our case
A sign of being humble
Is the grace not to grumble
When hope seems to tremble;
Perhaps tumble and crumble,
When the strength to bustle
Through the tussle
Is lost in the hustle,
When dryness is left to rustle
Satan's always eager
To make the veil bigger
But praise is the trigger
Like a gold digger
Which unveils God's finger
For prophecies that linger;
God's the joy bringer,
Praise's the joy ringer.
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