The cloak from heaven fell,
and blackness hid the truth from men’s eyes.
They groped and searched;
searched the skies
for the face of deity.
Who are these
whose evil deeds
scarred Earth’s face
and spilled outwards into darkness?
The shattered remnants of truth,
like fading dreams, were lost
amidst the echoes of demon laughter.
The pagan rituals screamed blasphemy,
and men crouched,
yearning for death’s cold hands
to cover their faces—
and Earth groaned
beneath her tremendous burden.
God, in mercy, has restored the light,
though men still grope,
unable to recognize what they so desperately need.
And who are these
that fly as a cloud,
and like doves to their windows?
Like Noah’s dove,
bringing the gladdest of tidings,
God’s messengers come,
clutching truth so tightly.
Pray, oh pray,
that those to whom they wing their way
will welcome these doves
who bring them light.