Psalm 49 — Un Mauvais Maître

An old chest overflowing with treasure, like a pirate’s hoard.
Image by Dean Moriarty from Pixabay

The foolish puts their trust in gold,
But riches cannot save a soul,
And treasure cannot make one whole.
Rich bones entombed will still be cold.

Incline your ear
To my dark words:
Death shall feed on them;
Their beauty shall
Be consumed
In the grave.

I will not fear; I will extol
You for my heart and soul You hold.
You will redeem my life unsold
And write my name upon Your scroll.

And while the rich
Have their reward,
My treasure is with You
Where moth and rust
Cannot corrupt
And thieves can’t steal.

L’argent est un bon serviteur
Et un mauvais maître.

Esther learned to read when she was four years old, and began writing shortly thereafter. She is a queer Christian poet, crafting with words to create art and music.

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