Place me outside the circumstances that entangle
Throw me into the realm of experience,
The split of being in two places at once:
The spirit of the world grows faint
As it is stalked by shadows of doubts
Dry tinder collected for an eternal fire
Craving redemption, creation sighs
Under the weight of a collection of idols
They huddle in bunches like wheat gathered at harvest
Carefully polished and virtuous statues
Cluttering the road feeble hands build
A new wind blows over deep-rooted
Lust reaching its branches over this road
It will set equity on fire
Until you flood the altar with tears
Turning hearts to live lives filling storehouses with
Lines drawn between the righteous and the wicked,
Between treasure and excuse
And a circle around a desperate cry for help.
Unroll the scroll of remembrance
And engrave the honor of your presence
Anew onto our hearts.
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