Psalm 11 Poem by Justin Reamer

In the Lord I take refuge;
How can You say to my soul,
'Flee as a bird to your mountain;
For behold, the wicked bend the bow,
They make their arrow upon the string
To shoot in darkness at the upright in heart.
If the foundations are destroyed,
What can the righteous do? '

The Lord is in His holy temple;
The Lord's throne is in heaven;
His eyes behold, His eyelids test the sons of men.
The Lord tests the righteous and the wicked,
and the one who loves violence His soul hates.
Upon the wicked He will rain snares;
Fire and brimstone and burning wind will be the
Portion of their cup.
For the Lord is righteous,
He loves righteousness;
The upright will behold His face.