We who are torn by toil
Fragmented,
Swirling
Battered by a thousand needs,
Where is our peace?
We who seek pleasure,
Constant entertainment,
The whirling distractions that numb
us
To the bitter wounds inside,
Where is our peace?
We who dance
Like marionettes
To somebody else’s music,
Who pay without any gain,
Where is our peace?
We who cannot look
On the face of suffering
Without having to pretty it up,
To make it nice,
Where is our peace?
We who make the rules,
Being enslaved
To our own brand of holiness
Forging our own copyright on truth,
Where is our peace?
Prince of Peace
Lord of the Sabbath,
Hands nailed wide to give;
Conqueror of death
Lord of the swirling waters
Shepherd of the broken sheep,
The Lord our Righteousness:
You are our peace.
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