Succor

Each galling ache with steadied prayer dispel. Let that bland hour bleak with chilling thought Glow with indelible joys of a yet hoping heart, And knit such merry smiles as cute angels got. Hold onto that time-tested unswerving dream That martyrs' sorrows will just retribution find, That her sweat and blood and echoed scream, Shall not unavenged in giddied labyrinths wind. Often hit by a gloating stare and its acid taints, Hum within a great carol by famed fallen saints. In your mean travails attended with dizzying pains, Trust the holy writ that man’s sorrowing soul trains. Even as false signs dupe that relief roams far, May your woe-stoutened faith persist unshorn. If the only light offs into the lowest horizon-line, Remember the darkest hour is closest to dawn. Soon shall the mourning soul’s sobbings cease, For deepest angst precedes profoundest peace.