When will the last storm hit?
When will the last war be waged?
My heart wonders

My land is so tired
Her people mourn
For all is not well

But they see it should be different
They understand there is a greater way

Their weeping haunts my soul
I wish I could take it away
Though I am one of them
I see them
And desire
To fill their homes with joy
Their hearts with hope
And their eyes with beauty

Their voice echoes off the cliffs
And goes out to sea

Someday their call will be heard
And though I cannot rescue them
I believe they will be found

And oh, to see their faces
Alive.

(theinkthatspeaks.blogspot.com)