When There Is No End Poem by Thomas Noel Smith

When there is no end that we can see
Just the end that mortals know,
When there is no light to touch our lives
No place for us to grow.

When there is no room to breathe or move
Away from a shadow’s hold,
When there’s not enough sun to warm our lives
Our hearts turn quickly cold.

When the banshee’s song is a welcome hymn
Caressing the moonless night
Who will mock the souls of men
When all are pleading for the light?

Angels’ eyes with pity gaze
And watch us while we rest
But pity will not lift our hearts
When the world has us possessed.

The tall steel canyons made by man
That praise man’s new-found god
Towers rising to the sky…
This modern church, a great façade.

Our buildings are the fingers
Of a huge and mighty hand,
And here we chant our worship
In cathedrals built to man