From the book of Habakkuk
Perspective: Habakkuk wrestling with God's choice to send wicked Assyria to judge Israel's wickedness
Why do you make me see what you don't seem to?
My people find nothing they won't thrust their sword through
They're covered in blood that is not their own
As if justice was just another stone to throw
Still these oppressors get pummeled by tyrants
A storm only met with a cyclone of violence
Why send a wildfire to extinguish these flames?
Like the beat in their chest, the blood only circulates
Woe to the cobblestones of the tyrant's streets
Its king will soon be residing under its feet
He thinks he's protected in his ivory tower
But soon he'll see who possesses all power
Inventors of powerless fiction intended to save
Yet their stones cry out the only God's name
This Holy One holds up the atmosphere unwearied
Yet their blocks of wood can't even ask to be carried
All kingdoms scatter at his unsheathed sword
But the righteous stand for they have seen the Lord
My honest wrestlings have brought me to my knees
Still compelled to praise, answers aren't what I need
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