When dreams are dead
Men lose their heart,
And, like dead men,
They fall apart.
Inside, unseen,
Their souls like stone,
Bear calloused wounds,
Exist forlorn.
Let not dreams die —
Still deep inside,
Quench not the fire
Of hope alive.
Let Love somehow
Heal deepest wounds.
Let Jesus’ love
Break open tombs!
Then shout, and sing,
Our voices raise!
Hosannahs bring
In humble praise!
clarakatalin 
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