My labors made in vain.
Into the void I now lament,
For no one sees their pain.
A lonely figure scales the mount
With empty book in hand.
There are no royal names to count
Their lines will not expand.
An arrow fires from shadowed bow
Upon the lighted peak.
It beckons far and calls the Low,
The Patient, and the Meek.
O lesson well and wisely taught
Stay with them to the last,
That all the grief their follies wrought
Will dwindle in the past.
O vanity, mislead no more!
Do not enslave the Strong!
Wake up your hearts and voice the score
To the rhythm of His Song!
Dear Lord, Your mercy lights the way.
Smile on them as they come.
Exalt their highways, their thirst allay.
Your love will lead them home.
………………………………………………………..
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“Your patience, son, I now require,
Towards those who take my name.
For even though some hear the lyre
You still must fire the flame.
“The time has come to walk the stage
And give the Gentiles light.
I’ll hold thy hand if you engage
To wake them from the night.
“Discourage not, ye shall not fail
I stretch my hand towards all,
And giveth breath to those who flail
Redeeming from the Fall.”
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