There is a dark night of the soul

Where tears unseen never cease to flow

Where a cynical and aching heart seems to brood

Amid a blemished flesh who oppresses so rude

I wait in downcast in sorrow and despair

Awaiting a Voice, a Presence, a touch the Divine shares

My only hope, the great eschatological surprise

When out of the pain and ashes I hear the trumpet to arise

Come O’ Hope, Maranatha again

To end the scourging final sting, the final crushing blow of sin

I wait browbeaten yet with great hope…Maranatha…Flee to me, help a sinner cope

Come quickly Lord, hearken to my side

Even still, under the shadow of Your wings I reside

Let the bones You have crushed be healed




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