In shadowed lands where truth is bought and sold,
Where thrones are built on lies and fleeting gain,
The hearts of men grow callous, dark, and cold,
And virtue bleeds beneath ambition’s chain.
The sacred vows are broken without shame,
The streets run red with envy’s bitter cost,
The holy name is mocked, denied, profaned—
A world adrift, unanchored, tempest-tossed.
Yet in the storm, a stillness calls us near:
A thorn-crowned King with mercy in His eyes.
He bore our guilt, our violence, lust, and fear,
And rose with healing light that never dies.
Though kingdoms fall and every idol rusts,
The cross still stands—our refuge and our trust.
So turn, O soul, from ruin and regret;
The Shepherd seeks the lost with wounded hands.
No sin too deep, no heart He won’t reset,
No grave so dark His love can’t light the lands.
Let rebels kneel, let prodigals arise—
For Christ alone makes dead men truly wise.
Mark Humber 30 December 2025
