Oh, the pains of the searching

and seeking

to find

peace in a time

of chaos and fear.

Though life may appear

dark

and the evil stark,

fear not,

for the sun shall always rise.

 

 

Oh, the woeful tales cried in the streets;

they vie for attention,

and at their very mention

cause memory loss

of the Maker,

the Orchestrator,

of all the world in full.

 

 

Oh God, grant us clarity—

your charity, we beg

when dark grow the

skies.

Open our scaly eyes

to the Prince of Peace,

the Righter of ships,

from who’s lips

springs the Sword

of the Word—

the ruin of all evil things.

 

anthony forrest