The Dawning of Hope

Life is a burden
And time is a curse 
Each day is a play 
That we do not rehearse

We each write a book 
With much careful thought 
But know that its pages 
Will all come to naught. 

Our moments are painted 
With much artful skill 
But colors are wasted 
In time that we kill. 

We sing songs of passion 
In much pain begotten 
Meant to inspire 
But too soon forgotten

Our stories are bland artifacts 
Buried in dust 
Our iron wills corrupted 
Our treasured thoughts rust 

Our hearts bleed for nothing 
Our mind aches in vain 
Our joys are all pointless 
There’s nothing to gain. 

The things that now hurt us 
Will soon hurt no more 
But the pleasures that drive us 
Will leave us all poor. 

For life is a burden 
And time is a curse 
Hope an illusion 
A rose scented hearse. 

Till in steps the Savior 
With truth for our lies 
The pain was His blessing 
Dressed up in disguise. 

Our hurts and our failures 
Drive us to his arms 
He wooes and He wins us 
With mysteries charms 

Then life is a blessing 
And time just a start 
A hopeful beginning 
For a once hopeless heart.