Survival Has It’s Cost
Struggling along through the burning sand,
while I hold my loved ones hand.
We help each other along.
The end will come. It won’t be long.
We have heavy packs upon our backs.
We even have some food in a few sacks.
Our water is starting to get low.
We don’t know how much further we can go.
We are being pursued for our food.
Someone is following. Stuck to us like glue.
If we can get through this desert,
we will be able to find solid dirt.
Then we can make better time.
Get to my brother’s house & be fine.
His place is deep in the mountains.
It is well guarded & near a fountain.
He has a large storehouse of supplies.
He awaits our arrival. He & his wife.
As we rest, I see the man. He is near.
I yell for him to stop, with fear.
He fires a shot at me. I duck for cover.
I grab my rifle & blow him off his feet.
He doesn’t move. Just lies in the heat.
I am shaking & cry out to the Lord.
“Why must I fight this crazy hoard?”
“Must I kill them all to survive?”
“Should I totally depend on you to stay alive?”
“Or, do I do what I can to help myself?”
“Let you handle everything else?”
We continue on across the burning sands.
Finally, we see some foliage on the land.
In a couple days we are in the mountains.
We thank God for our blessings as we count them.
It will still take days to reach his home.
We pray to God that we are not alone.
We have water now. There is small game.
We can survive.—– That much is plain.
My brother’s house finally comes into sight.
My walkie talkie reaches him in the night.
He is waiting when we reach the door.
I said “ I don’t want to kill anymore.”
We all pray for the Lord’s protection.
I ask forgiveness, with no exceptions.
The time of trouble has arrived.
All we wanted was to survive.
Live till we see our Lord in the sky.
Pray we’re saved and will not fry.
—————————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2015)