Don’t they see? Don’t they hear?
Lord, Your coming is so near
Earthquakes in diverse places
Heartache and hatred on their faces
Germs hidden away, air tight
Masks come off though during the fight
Quiet the riots dear Lord
Then may they hear Your Word
Stop the fearful webs from spinning
Show them all no one is winning
Is it time for iniquity to abound?
Has their love waxed cold; never to be found?
Will the cold hearts hear Your trumpet’s call?
Or will You tell them depart, I never knew you at all?
Your heart breaks at the beginning of sorrows
For you know they are running out of tomorrows….
Amy Blount July 2020
Images found on the internet.