What emptiness my heart confessed, upon the restless, stony ground. As angels cried and martyrs called, my last reserves were boldly found. I stood on ramparts, arms raised high, to claim His will, and let love fly, across the wastes, of what remains… upon the winds of endless faith.
What remnant now is left of us, to populate this broken world, cast adrift on stormy seas, our sail, your grace, is full, unfurled. Does He love still, what now remains? Can through His will, our lives be changed? Are we, His son’s, so long estranged, still worthy of His legacy?
We are, we shall, we can, we will, while standing tall we’re standing still, to listen to His beating heart, His word ingrained, our lives apart… The part we play, His light of day, to beat back night, and death, enslaved, to claim our right, to live, to die, as faith in Him, His word implies, then rise once more, from apathy, with fire inside, where love resides, to shine as beacons for our King, to serve our Lord, in everything.