Of the student.
How long, O Lord?
How much more innocent blood?
Death has come for all generations—
our parents, our children, our friends—
when will it end?
The rocks and the earth cry out,
in pain, in fear, for justice, for rescue.
Do You hear, Lord?
Will You answer?
We pitch our tents in the valley of death,
and we cannot walk out of Sheol.
The darkness seems total.
How can things change
when our hearts are so hard
that in the face of such destruction
we refuse to act?
Lift Your hand, O Lord.
Remember Your people.
Hear our cries and cover us.
You are great and mighty, Lord.
Rescue us and bring us justice.
written May 24, 2022
Moriah Sharpe 