At This Great, Trembling Hour
In the midst of total madness
and confusion, the gruesome streak
of dull paint across the Wall,
the mire of our ignorance,
marshes of our Time,
we do yet find some
Light: glints of the human,
whispers of Truth
so sorely needed
at this great, trembling Hour,
God, we beseech You,
beg Your pardon for our sins,
and wish for clarity
like the dissipated clouds,
or the fresh and verdant Isle
of the unclogged Mind,
or the emaciated Heart
let bled to be clean, cleansed,
so we’ll understand it, then.
09/26/2016
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