Giving help to the helpless
And a Voice to the voiceless
Life to the dying, the fading
Comfort to the crying, jaded
Jesus my rock, ground sacred
I wait to meet you, in spirit
Some fear judgment, fearing it
I want to be in the place, calm
Knowing my price was paid
Knowing my maker, ready
My spirit is wild, untamed
But I am on the path
I am not lost
God allows me to endure
For the way is pure
Even as I am not
There is victory at the cross
