When will the light

When Will the Light

When will the light pierce through the darkness of mankind,  

Splitting the veil that binds our eyes to night?  

When will the innocent no longer suffer at the hand of the wicked,  

Their small hands unclenched, their cries unchained from fright?

When will judgement pass through all the land,  

Not as fire to burn, but rain to cleanse the disease of man?  

When shall the darkness have its day by the light of the night—  

That strange hour when even shadows learn to stand?

When can my soul rest, and the void be calm  

As the slumbering angels of Psalms,  

Breathing slow beneath heaven’s palm?  

When will the end of days settle the storms of men,  

And calm the souls of lost children again?

When will the pain of a world lost  

Be revived by the love of its Creator,  

Not in thunder, but in the whisper that makes us whole—  

A word older than sorrow,  

Calling every wandering soul home?  

So I ask, and the echo asks with me:  

When will the night give back what it stole?  

When will mercy outweigh the toll?  

When will light not just pierce, but dwell—  

In the marrow of mankind, making all things well?