Victory

Victory is counted as weakness surpassed
Carried to the hill to see the sun at last
Mute and deaf alike carried here along
From the shattered darkness to sing a new song
Victory lies not within the strength of arm
Nor is the sure avoidance from anything of harm
But in the hollow cry of men who know defeat
Raised within His arms to give what death deplete
Over yonder mountain lie many who succeed
Who fight with strength and valor, led by envy and greed
Their battle may be won, and men may give them praise
A red sun set with blood will see their end of days

Weep not, men of weakness; cry not men of loss
Yours will be the victory that reach beyond the cost
Sing a new song from the weak and humbled voice
Though you see only defeat, I say good men rejoice!
The sun must rise again within its fateful hour
Although we may not know its light, it will be our power
The sword and bow no longer will bring the victory
The banner is now held by Whom we cannot see

So says the Lord

"Sing to me, you weary men of helpless repute 
A weary soul calling me, I will not dispute
I see each bleeding wounded heart lying on the field
I come to you in silence though I may not here reveal
Trust to me, beloved, that I will hear your prayer
Each frail crying warrior I shelter with care
Though you cannot cry out for any man to hear
Mine is not so frail; I bear a listening ear
I judge each by his heart of hearts, though it may be weak
To one humbled in his loss, my heart longs to speak


So set your eyes for daylight, to where the sun will rise
The day is drawing nearer still where I wear no disguise 
Yes, the hour approaches with great exalted praise
Those who sought my heart to heal will have unending days"

So says the Lord