O afar, beneath this gray coloured day,
Hangs a ribbon of darkness, shadowed fiend,
Despite the attempts, I admittedly say,
All reproves seem endless.
Remorse, we are all wanderers,
Stuck in a world of shadows and fear,
I stand back and observe this shadowed plight,
Hope is again shattered.
But look! Here hastens the One who saves,
To reprimand the darkened day, to free
All who sit in suffering; be sure,
No one can stop this creed.
The struggle is daring, the fight simply glorious,
Eyes are opened, brilliant light upon us.
Victory is near, we are now soon victorious!
All reproves seem useless.
But now I rest. Many a day has long been spent,
Freeing caged souls and captured breaths,
Who knows what this creed keeps in waiting next?
Only some will observe.
So let us lay our heads to slumber,
Soft, intermingled dreams;
And somewhere distant, in the future,
We wanderers will come home, it seems.