A little girl cried out, “Does none love me?”
And gazed out the panes in certain despair,
Her curtained heart barred her eyes that would see,
And she faded into imagined worlds so fair.
While the rain passed by singing…
Hey, Li La, sweet child of all
The slow cure is e’er the surest.
listen for the Saviors call,
While your heart learns to burn purest.
Eighteen in a tangled web of hopeless,
She came with others to the cloverleaf,
There her web tightened and choked her breathless,
Til nercys chokehold became reliefs tears sea.
The whisper in her heart began to sing….
Now the cross descended on the new free
And reminded her of the blackest night;
She had come through fire, glory seen,
But one arose to expose her Savior’s lie.
He cursed her while the unheard Savior sang….
Wait in this darkest part of ante-dawnand work each moment for joyous peace,
Life’s curses are not meant to be so long,
The slowest pace is the saving drumbeat.
So wrench your poor heart from below,
Cry out with mercy singing slow…