"Let It Be Known" by Wesley Tyler Robinson

Not one to be eloquent with words, please, allow me to be direct;
I have been evil since birth, and sin found in me a great prospect.
In thought and deed I rebelled against the King's decree,
Raised my fist in hatred, but never in plea for mercy.

So what changed?

Why is there a Name above all names,
Which I would die to give fame?
What is it that I cherish more than my own breath?
More than my family?
Of what would I willingly go to death?

And why?

 Though I loved my idols to my shame,
Christ came.
The only One who could take my blame,
The only One who made me change to never be the same.

Knowing I would hate Him, He still came in the flesh,
He still lived a perfect life and died the death
I deserved,
And to my rotten corpse of a soul, gave breath and preserved.

Only by the grace I was shown could I make joy my own,
Only the King of Kings made a man like me,
Kill my flesh daily, to the point that I suffer and bleed.
Only this God-man could make my hate recede.

Only He could take a weak, filthy criminal like me,
And make a metaphorical soldier to fight for His glory every day of the week.
I am not perfect.
No seriously, I'm not.
Sometimes in sin I'm caught, but my conscience is led to repentance,
And this same King cleanses me, even though I sin in every sentence.

Let it be known that I am only alive to this day,
I am only still here to say,
One thing;
We are all evil, and this life is not a movie but it has a sequel.
For there is death and then the judgement,
From the Triune God who's laws are perfect.
So please look to said laws,
Figure out you're dirty and lost,
And then see the Holy Lamb who hung on the Cross,
And rose again so we'd never be lost.

"Simple Magnificence" by Wesley Tyler Robinson

He is magnificent.

From every sunrise to sunset,
Every bit of dust, every mote and spec,
Every redemption story,
Serves only to show the King's glory.

Every bird flock over the dock,
Every small child drawing in chalk,
Causes all of me to see,
The beauty of Christ who created the breeze.

Every scar and knife wound,
Every action deserving the tomb,
Makes my affections inflate,
For the Lord of whom my sin did take.

Every hymn of grace I hear,
Every loved one I hold dear,
Calls my heart to behold the sea,
Of love from Christ who rose for me.

"All Hail The King!" by Wesley Robinson

Long I lived against the King’s decree,
In utter sin and blasphemy,
And though I knew this was my plight,
In darkness still I took delight.

But then at once a Wind rushed past,
Sud'nly my stone heart was dashed!
My veil of sin was torn in two,
And then, the King, His mercy prov’d!

Though my eyes were scaled and lost,
He fix’d them right upon a cross.
At once my scales fell to the ground,
Crushed by the grace that I had found!

The hanging King, my sin did take,
And saved me from the fiery lake!
His Majesty did not stop there;
He took me safely in His care.

He made me perfect in His sight,
 So now in Christ I take delight.

"Triune God, Lord Of All" by Wesley Robinson

YHWH is my King,
He works deeds of deliverance.
He divided the sea,
By His own strength.
He crushed the heads of monsters,
And forever made us psalters.
By His own hand,
Shall we live.

 O God of Jacob!
Ransom me, a sinner!
Forever shall my soul,
Long for You!

Bless the Lord, O my soul!
And all that is within me!
Bless the Lord, O my soul!
And forget not His name!
He pardons all iniquities,
And heals all of my disease,
He hears my prayers,
And brings me into the fold!

 Instruct me, O Lord!
Teach me, a sinner!
 Lead me in the path of righteousness!

"Father From Heav'n" by Wesley Tyler Robinson

O' Holy Father from Heav'n,
Look on Thy sheep below;
Pardon our iniquities,
And let Thy love be shown.

Though before we have fled Thee,
And wander'd into harm;
Thy Lamb hath made us be free,
From hate and wrongful charm.

So lead us by Thy waters,
Chastise us by Thy rod;
Hold us by Thy loveliness,
And take us home to Thee, our God.

"In Death" by Wesley Tyler Robinson

In death when all Thy Saints depart,
To rest down by Thy side;
They are freed from all wickedness,
All sin, guilt, and pride.

When all Thy precious sheep lie down,
Thine hands shalt dearly hold them;
They wilt behold the precious crown,
The one of thorns bore for them.

Glorified before Thy throne,
We wilt stand in honor;
And adore Thy precious Son,
Whom will not let us wander.

"O' The Bitter Cup Of Wrath" by Wesley Tyler Robinson

O' the bitter whip and lash,
That tore through His very flesh;
Church, He hath done this for thee!
That thou may be at rest!

O' how sweet that crown of thorns,
Pressed on the Savior's head;
How He bore our iniquities,
And rescued us from death!

O' the nails put through His hands,
Pierced for our transgression;
That we may be with Him at last,
On earth and in Heav'n!

O' the pain, His dying breath,
Crying, 'it is finished!'
But then He was raised from the dead,
And His Kingdom wilt not diminish!