The Death of Sin

O Lord, I see our sin gives birth to death–
Those two will not among the living be–
But creep upon us in their cunning stealth
To bind us and to never set us free.

But You, I see, have come to kill these foes
Who for protection wrap themselves in self,
Discover their own inner world of woe
Is on the way to death and not to health.

Your breath You breathe in us is heaven’s air
With fragrance sweet from that eternal “yes”
Your Mother spoke to open garden fair
Where gate was locked ‘til we come as her guest.

O death, you are the sword used by our Lord
To kill our sin with His Incarnate Word.