When man forsakes the sacred writ of old,
The compass true that steers through storm and strife,
He wanders blind, in shadows dark and cold,
And yields his soul to falsehood’s subtle knife.

The enemy, with whispers soft and sly,
Doth twist the heart and cloud the seeking mind,
A web of lies where truth itself may die,
And virtue’s path grows ever hard to find.

Without the Word, the standard firm and clear,
Deception reigns, a king on borrowed throne,
Each step astray, a fall to doubt and fear,
Till man believes he treads the world alone.

Yet grace remains, a light through scripture shown,
To break the lie and claim us as His own.