A bloodied child foreshadowed by a cross,

both share their taste of evil and of loss,

and when will people ever live and learn

that hurt and harm is all that war can earn?

We hold our breath in horror as we view

this scene forever old, forever new;

amid the dust and rubble strewn around

a child cries out and parents can’t be found.


How long, O Lord we cry, each hollow word,

our pleas of peace increasingly absurd?

Good God, forgive us when inaction’s voice

speaks loudly of our violent, hurtful choice.

Andrew Pratt (born 1948)
Words © 18/8/2016 Stainer & Bell Ltd, London, England, www.stainer.co.uk.
Please include any reproduction for local church and school use on your CCL Licence returns. All wider and any commercial use requires prior application to Stainer & Bell Ltd.

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