Stricken

From where does comfort come,

When hardship hits the weary,

Circumstance knows no bounds,

As tragedy strikes the young,

As weakness strikes the strong,

Without regards to age,

Without seeing beauty,

Without making sense.

There is no rhyme or reason,

As the sensible grow foolish,

In trying to make sense,

Of all that comes to pass,

When the reality of weakness,

Is knowing we can't choose,

In when we win or lose,

Just how we play the game.

For the one enduring truth,

Is souls do not pass,

As tethers tied of love,

Bind our souls together,

Making miracles of madness,

As we invest ourselves in others,

With clear vision of the heart,

Through the gift of time.

As time passes enduring,

Endure within the faith,

Knowing when you seem alone,

We are all close at hand,

Through the dark of night,

May the stars reminds your soul,

We watch over you with love,

As the light pours from our hearts.