Tablets in the Dust
They came not carved by human hand,
But thundered down with flame and sand.
Ten words, ten lines from Sinai’s peak,
To teach the strong, defend the weak.
“Thou shalt not kill,” the heavens cried—
And war stepped back, and wrath complied.
“Thou shalt not steal,” and walls were built
To hold back greed and cleanse the guilt.
Honor thy father, rest thy soul,
Keep holy day and self-control.
Do not commit the lover’s lie,
Do not bear witness, do not spy.
Do not bow down to crafted gold,
And love the Lord with heart and soul.
These were the stones that shaped the land—
A moral law by God’s own hand.
And for a time, the nations stood,
Not perfect, but they called it good.
But now, the tablets lie in dust,
Their letters cracked by hate and rust.
They’re cast like coins into the street,
Trampled beneath unholy feet.
“Their silver and gold shall not be able to deliver them… they shall cast their silver in the streets.”
(Ezekiel 7:19, KJV)
A world unbound, unmoored, untrue—
Where black is white and right is skewed.
Where idols rise in mirrored glass,
And covenants like vapor pass.
They laugh at honor, kill for clout,
They call it truth, they curse and shout.
They steal in boardrooms, slay online,
And love the lie that looks divine.
A world without the sacred Word—
Where silence reigns and none are heard.
Where children mock, and judges lie,
And hearts grow cold beneath the sky.
But still they stand, though men deny—
Those laws of fire shall not die.
They burn beneath the conscience deep,
They wait while fools and tyrants sleep.
For soon the tablets shall arise,
Carried by fire from heaven’s skies.
And every soul shall see and know
That God gave law so grace could flow.
To cast them down is death made near—
To hold them close is hope sincere.
Written by Marguerite Grace
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verse, possies, sonnets, and short stories 