God's Work Upon the Walls
War can take the innocent
For what they may believe.
Lock them up without a hope
That they will ever leave.
That's how it was for one young man,
Whose faith was very strong.
They threw him in a pitch black hole,
Where criminals belong.
He prayed, "Dear God how long?"
At times they heard his laughter,
Float on clouds of sorrow.
He'd cry himself to sleep at night,
And hope for no tomorrow.
Was locked up in the lonely dark,
When music came to him.
He wrote with wings above the clouds,
Where light was never dim.
Flying with the seraphim.
Was fed and watered once a day,
And served up endless pain.
He smiled at his torturers,
They thought he was insane.
But, Angels sang in harmony,
To songs he would compose.
An orchestra played in his head,
The notes God only knows.
His endless river flows.
Prison cannot cage a man,
Who lives inside his soul.
His body suffered, yet he moved
On to his final goal.
And when he knew the room was filled,
He heard God's welcome calls.
Some of the worlds great symphonies,
Were scratched into the walls.
God's work upon the walls.
They found him laying on the floor.
The end of his long days.
The good Lord works his miracles,
In many different ways.
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