Rivulets of tears, down the child´s rutted cheek,
What´s been done by us, to make him so bleak?
Knotted, gnarled fingers, of the sad, aged &
weak,
Where are the answers, in our prayers that we
seek?
The blood & the bang, of world´s battled scarred
wars,
Arid lands of drought, cracked, raped & so
bloody sore,
Tell me please, who is it that is making all these
laws?
Please tell me, what is it that we are really
praying for?
We ask, we plead, we beg, to end saddened strife
& fray,
We confess, we atone & we even stop to daily
& gaily play,
And yet & yet, it is & always will be,
here with us to stay,
Tell me please Lord, for what is it, that we must
daily pray?
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