To hear the searching of the past
Bring out a pain so fresh
Tells me the wounds
Have never healed
And still can cause distress
You see the little boy or girl
In the eyes of the adult
Reliving painful memories
With always the same result
Of tears and sadness
And cracked voice
As the ghosts howl and haunt
The tentacles of darkness grasp
The demons prowl and taunt.

Lift up your wings
O cherubim
Lift up our downcast spirits
Heal the pain of life I plead
Or teach us how to bear it.