the cloak that was upon us,
its darkness overwhelming
could you feel it in the sunrise?
did it hold you in the dusk?
we rolled out from our beds of binding sunlight into the night sky,
clung to the moon,
don't leave us starlight,
I'm so sorry God.
we wrapped ourselves in belts of despair and masked them as relevance,
angels wept as the glory left our hands,
I have never known death to be so close.
there was a cross standing empty on a hill,
but our eyes were on our hands of sorrow,
dust lingered on our fingertips such futility as a power,
but still the dust threw us to the ground,
and the world asked us where our power went,
but how do you sing unknown words?
darkness set once more and left us out to die,
but the Lord sent a trumpet in the winter,
our hearts were trees lost of leaves,
our lungs were empty from our despair,
but have you heard of the loving God?
he sends down trumpets in your most horrific storms,
blows the moon dust off your fingertips and puts the trumpet to your lips,
your lungs are filled so heavy with his gold,
he says breathe deep,
you breathe in the ocean,
the water surges up your nose,
we are housing eternal water,
we have redemption flowing through our veins,
can you hear the trumpet sound?
can you hear the trumpet sound?
is that our long awaited victory?
is that the risen Lord?
lift up your eyes to the forgotten hill,
see two bits of wood lacking death as they scream out hope,
blow the trumpet again my friend,
and hear the sound,
hear the sound of our victory!
AF.