The Waves
A history tells the tales of times gone by. Ancient songs from beyond horizon's eye still tell our ancestor's lies. Our foundations shake because of the waves. Lord God Almighty, tell me when the earth will no longer quake. The cities of today fall down and they break. But yesterday's are long gone, no one can replace. Who can survive the ruins unscathed, without being fodder? The children of the ruins scream because no one will be their father. No one will be their mother. God, don't you turn the hearts of the fathers to the children? What if there are no fathers and only children? Will the children lead the children? Will the blind lead the blind? Death treads along the skyline. Yesterday's dream is today's curse. They've tried to steal the children's bread, but God's word has gone forth: "Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins and will raise up the age-old foundations; you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls, Restorer of Streets with Dwellings." The wasteland shall not prevail. A generation is rising that will rise above the waves. "You will be a crown of splendor in the Lord’s hand, A royal diadem in the hand of your God." It is written, so it is done. - Kelsey Heirloom