This One's Titled "Hope"

Is there no one here at all?
No one to break the perpetual fall of humanity?
There is nothing left to save.
No honest song, but a faint and distant blues.
No justice, except that which is consumed by revenge.

We ask questions without answers;
Can we bend without the break?
“Do the wicked ever lose?”
Will the deserted be found?
The hungry?
The poor?

We can glance in any single direction,
We dream powers and lengths beyond us
But we slip, at any given moment.
Nothing is ours to gain,
Everything is left to lose.

God forbid we are ever able to describe a hell
That is somehow worse than the sinking and charred waste
We’ve oh-so-carefully crafted for ourselves.
A day like this will cave the earth.

And though nothing is okay,
A day like this one;
When the sky falls into pink mountains,
When flight lifts us,
When rivers sweep us away…
That day will be redemption.

Where I used to sink, I walk on water
Where I used to mourn, I rejoice
And the blues continue faintly, but honestly at least,
With compassion written in the chorus,
Goodness, steady, keeping time.
United with the least of these,
This one’s titled “hope”