Old Poem

She was full of the power and the blinding glow of God.
Every word she spoke, was like treasures flowing from her mouth.
Respected by all. Every part of her.

She started to change... Not so powerful, not so bright.
She seemed to be holding back.
For quite a while at that.
Comfort set in.

Then, out of no where, she pulls out her secret weapon,
And throws it with all of her might.
It hit more powerful than ever.
Penetrating my very soul.

There is power in truth.
Respect has been restored.
I know my place.
God IS powerful.