Bunch Of Believers

Running scared, fighting for your life.
Swords are drawn, midst the battle strife.
You feel your life slip away.

Limbs grow numb, your flesh starts to burn.
Wounds grow deep, slowly you discern.
Your life blood will drain away.

The sands of time, drain from the hourglass.
Your life thread, fraying in your grasp.
The gates of death draweth nigh.

Morning dawns, the sun begins to rise.
Blood and sweat, cloud your weary eyes.
Straining to view your cruel foe.

Gripping fear, no one can be seen.
Fighting air, yet your wounds bleed real.
You fight the Shadow of Death.

Distant form, drawing into sight, a man draws near.
With no armor for the fight,
Death thrusts the sword in His side.

Hope has gone, surely you must die.
Suddenly, through the blackened sky.
He rises and conqueres death.

We must die, our sins will bring us death.
At the end of Time.
Jesus Christ, Death no longer reigns.
Human sacrifice.