Spun through this wound of darkness
Faith is no empty sound
For the truth that pierces like a sword
Can bind the whole world round.
And the word that rends the silence
Where the heart’s blood finds its voice
Is torn from the breath of our deepest dream
Making its dreadful choice.
And He walks in all our stumbling,
Weaves music from our cries,
And love shall lift all into beauty
Where degradation lies.
For He stands in no aloofness
From our agonised despair.
Where man destroy the life of man
The Son of Man is there.
Through mud and muck and horror
And nightmare’s deepest fear;
In the shattering of our heart’s last hope
The Son of Man is here.
And we are not utterly alone
When all things crash to nought
For the nails, the spear, the crown of thorns –
He knew, He owned, He sought.
For faith is never just a word
Here in our hells he stands
Bearing the lash of our wildest griefWith nail scars in His hands.