His love,
It is like a child loved by their mother.
His Love
it is like a powerful hurricane and we are the trees.*
His Love,
It doesn't have an end.
This love,
It doesn't run out.
This love,
It'll never be finished.
This love,
It is so great that you can't describe it.
His work,
It goes the way he wants it to.
His work,
will never be completed as long as this Earth is sinful.
His work,
Goes on forever.
* line from song how he loves by david crowder
