Your words, a wall between us, a guarded plea,
Your purpose, unspoken, lost in you and me.
Our hearts, the question, the longing we confess.
Your purpose, unspoken, silent in distress.
Unspoken still.
If God exists, His name breathes through the earth,
If God exists, His echoes claim our worth.
But if the world should crumble, cease to be,
What treachery then exists for God to see?
Unspoken still.
The embers of desire, once burned so bright,
Their ashes scattered, lost to endless night.
My foolish heart, amidst this barren space,
What phantom joy now seeks in this desolate place?
Your purpose, unspoken, lost in endless space.
Unspoken still.
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