Be an Outpost
What of the people’s passion,
May then endure and last?
Are we not littering with useless things,
A strange and swerving past?
Oh you, Fascinated Generation –
How shall anyone speak with you?
What will be the relics of your reign?
Oh! Who assassinated your aspirations?
Who? Their ballistics are inhumane…
I wish that I could reach you,
I wish that you could see,
This world and its trappings,
Was never made for you and me and
eternity…
How I long to know,
You’ve kept that root,
Of your heart alive!
To dare to love,
To remain warm inside.
From the living root of the heart,
Grows the Good Fruits of the Mind.
And the hands may also do good,
And together make good use of time.
But this, is an age of Trickery,
Many are blind and lost.
It requires repentant recovery
To bear the weight of this cross.
Oh you, daughters, who are complacent,
And you Sons, busy admiring fools –
Are these symptoms not adjacent,
To abandonment too soon?
How can I reach you?
Those who feel secure now
Might not feel so later.
Those who feel unsure now
May very well turn out the greater.
We have a friend who can steady us,
One who is always there.
One who can be relied on –
But only for those who dare,
To not despair.
Open your heart to Him,
Please let Him in.
In that true moment of conversion,
You are one with the King.
Make your heart an outpost
Of Heaven,
Let the light shine in the innermost,
Reclaim your aspiration!
Potent generation, listen,
Through there are steep mountains ahead,
It is only those who are unprepared,
Who need have any fear of death.
