The Death of Day, The Birth of Night

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A sadness so great,

 

A time so still,

 

That only His hand, and clasping my heart, could ever make it beat again.

 

A silence so impelling,

 

A darkness so deafening to my world,

 

That only His hand, and clasping my heart, could ever make it beat again.

 

It is the death of day,

and the birth of night.

 

My mind wonders in a sea of lost and desperate confusion.

 

No solace from the day, no peace within the night.

 

A remorse not ceasing,

 

A weightlessness unintended,

 

That only His hand, and clasping my soul, could ever keep it secured from flight.

 

A feat so considerable,

 

An action so assured that the reaction came mighty in this fight,

 

That only His son, and clasping my life, could ever make me breath again,

 

And stopping my death from this time.

 

Within the death of day, and beyond the birth of night,

 

My Farther showed me the way back home.

 

In the dark, He lifted me, and His son led me,

 

Their strength held me and their everlasting and gracious light fought for me,

 

My tired and weary eyes no match for the unrelenting night.

 

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