Whether in voice or written form the word is truly king.
Its scepter stretched out right beyond; its subject it will bring.
Today we find our words or phrase, ev’n if wrapped in coins of gold.
To be worthless as the next; promises which do not hold.
Attached to all the implications promise does entail.
We find ourselves playing the game until we find we’ve failed.
Words, a seed planted below; they’re watered by the world.
They heal, hurt, help, and can relieve. The harvest scene unfurled.
One gave His word and by Himself He could not go any higher.
Because His word is good as gold; you’ll find He is no liar.
When our own words fall to the ground and sprout plants of despair.
Do not forget God left Himself; He left his word down here.