A city once mighty, now trembling with dread, Its walls bear the weight of the sins it has bred. An enemy of God, with schemes dark and deep, Where pride sowed decay, and justice did weep. Like fig trees shaken, their fruit swiftly falls, Into mouths of the swarming, devouring thralls. Locusts descend with relentless might, As order gives way to ruin and blight. But hope is not lost in the shadowed land, For Jesus reaches with nail-scarred hand. Our Savior calls, our Friend remains, To heal the heart and break the chains. The Lord withdrew, and chaos reigned, Guilt and disgrace in judgment proclaimed. And still today, we walk that line, Where nations and hearts in darkness pine. But hope is not lost in the shadowed land, For Jesus reaches with nail-scarred hand. Our Savior calls, our Friend remains, To heal the heart and break the chains. He lifts us up from sin and strife, And breathes in us a holy life. With gifts unique, we rise and stand, To serve the Lord with heart and hand. So let us turn from paths that stray, And follow Christ, the Light, the Way. From ruin to promise, we are restored— A people redeemed, by grace outpoured.
