Strongarm

praise is truly sacrifice
sorrow is a sage
so now i wait
i never dreamed that i'd be here
as a sacrament to be raised
and then broken
it never to spoken
still swallows my only breath of hope
incinerating words have never fallen so short
hands raised in submission
still your sanctuary burns still burning
no one told me that this grief would feel so much like fear
tears without protest a soul seeking solace
she's dying to wake but late is the daybreak
gasping and groaning the silence breaks for seething
i hear a still small voice inside me say grace grows in winter
how i long to believe that it speaks the truth
is this not my lot life
all is not comprehendible and all is not beautiful
however all has meaning and all can create beauty
let me see the meaning in this
let me find the beauty in this life
is learning what cannot break you can only be
a catalyst for growth creation groans for completion
truth wakes understanding and the morning comes yielding peace
oh how i long for this to be truth