Victory

Victory is counted as weakness surpassed Carried to the hill to see the sun at last Mute and deaf alike carried here along From the shattered darkness to sing a new song Victory lies not within the strength of arm Nor is the sure avoidance from anything of harm But in the hollow cry of men who know defeat Raised within His arms to give what death deplete Over yonder mountain lie many who succeed Who fight with strength and valor, led by envy and greed Their battle may be won, and men may give them praise A red sun set with blood will see their end of days Weep not, men of weakness; cry not men of loss Yours will be the victory that reach beyond the cost Sing a new song from the weak and humbled voice Though you see only defeat, I say good men rejoice! The sun must rise again within its fateful hour Although we may not know its light, it will be our power The sword and bow no longer will bring the victory The banner is now held by Whom we cannot see So says the Lord "Sing to me, you weary men of helpless repute A weary soul calling me, I will not dispute I see each bleeding wounded heart lying on the field I come to you in silence though I may not here reveal Trust to me, beloved, that I will hear your prayer Each frail crying warrior I shelter with care Though you cannot cry out for any man to hear Mine is not so frail; I bear a listening ear I judge each by his heart of hearts, though it may be weak To one humbled in his loss, my heart longs to speak So set your eyes for daylight, to where the sun will rise The day is drawing nearer still where I wear no disguise Yes, the hour approaches with great exalted praise Those who sought my heart to heal will have unending days" So says the Lord