The Only Story I Will Ever Need...

The shades of day are tinted, like a cloud of salty sea.
The droplets not have shifted: Just a memory of Thee.

The splintered pain stands lonely on the mountain of the dead,
to cast is shadow solely over broken heart and head.

The day of blackness drowning, for misery to claim.
The longest hours are slipping through the night to twist the pain.

The cold of stone seems horrid, yet it draws to seek the end.
An answer cruelly questioned lies in wait for Heaven's mend.

Bleak morning deceives the eyes, which long to see the Son,
a gentle voice then breathes it, the words of hope begun:

"Alleluia!" Can you hear it? Soft echoes part the clouds,
The night now sunk beneath us, blessed heavenly light abounds!

Those words of joy now pounding, "To the SON be endless glory!"
The darkness now is conquered in the sweetest saving story!

Now that splintered pain is love: our saving Lord has mended all!
Alleluia, Lord, to you be praise, your beautiful name we call:

"Immanuel,
Our risen Lord,
Is with us one and all!"