O God, we dare not place our hope in you
because we have no hope to place.
We have forgotten mercy, like the dew;
we have lost sight of days of grace.
Our heart's bowl brims with hollow emptiness.
Our dreams have vanished like the smoke
of incense burned to gods of faithlessness
upon an altar stone that broke.
O God, you have stirred up the darkened heart
with promises of light to come.
The embers of our cold hearth shift and start
a flicker that may yet become
the fire we fear because we shy from burns
our soul once suffered at the hands
of our own treachery. If life returns
for us, we dread rebirth's demands.
O God, ignore our plea for cold despair,
its ashes undisturbed, its chill
unwarmed by any hint borne on the air
by unseen angels, crying still
that promises are kept. Grant us instead
that small perturbing flick of flame
that wakens even in the living dead
just hope enough to call your name!
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