Our hearts, they long; our souls, they search;
Our minds, they bend; our strength, it fades.
Where will we find, where can we find a rest?
Can it be found? Is it on Earth?
We seek purpose; we seek fitting;
We seek reason; our hope, it fades.
Can we be filled? Is there a place to rest?
Why do we seek this thing, fleeting?
Mankind? Broken. This world? Fallen.
Every man hurts. Every rise fades.
Is that all that is sure? That is not rest.
Is there a hope coming?
Is there one who can give us what we seek?
Is there a Savior for a man like me?
Donald W Catchings Jr 