The night is far much sent
Up in the sky is shining crescent
All joys that are to us meant
Turning to awful pains as if sent
Grief to grief we are entitled
In the dungeon of calamity all manacled
Into a catastrophe lying in the world
Good start disastrous process crawled

Common people all spiritually poor
Engraved pessimistic hopes of woe
What’s in the line? Question is who
Life pushing us all too far away
Because our lives we all cant for pay
But this is our own story this heyday

Our lives are in danger once again
No room to demur not even to bargain
But today here is our own plea
In his hands we can all be free

When the temple doors are closed
Does it mean that God is asleep?
In his hands, people of God are we
Who really can defy us?
Setting forth our feet to trend
Setting forth our hands to write
Setting forth our blind eyes to see
Basking our waxed ears to hear
Mic testing our destiny
When we wait calm in His Hands

Facing obstruction while in the drive
In His Hands all are so true and even live
Looking beyond the horizon of that yonder
Because the light is no longer a wonder
In His Hands, we live all within the crest
As the day swallows down to the west
Along the way we get the streamline
In His Hands, we get the outline

Hoping to surely get a crown
Expecting the reality all we’d drawn
Step by step to the step we travel by
Owning all yet none to tell goodbye
In His Hands