Words seem to fail me, as I trudge on through...
The deafening, stinging wind and hailstones are flying
I haven't direction, but not for lack of trying...
Praying, reading, crying out...what else can I do?

Quench the nagging thirst that comes quickly with each expression
Quicken now a sure belief when all falls down around us
Bring to mind the fervent feelings from when love first found us
Heal this mess that stains us all; accept contrite confession

Heal this mess of pain that these stark storms have brought
Heal this tragic tangle pulling friends and family under
Soothe and salve the sickness and the strange and savage plunder
Do I really need to ask it, with all that death has wrought?