We must be content with chaos spurned
For all the tortured hope that holds us fast.
The face of death has gazed on us and turned
To darkness, for the light in us will last.
We walk your fields and sail your seas unknown
To carry hope to men as you require.
And we remain well armed, we bear your crown
And speak with words of angels, tongues on fire.
This is the rock upon which you have built
Forevermore your people, bound by love.
We build on rock, not sand, nor shame, nor guilt,
Forever looking to your light above.
Now soldiers, warriors, we are made more real
While all the wounds of death within us heal.
postscript
NaPoWriMo day eleven. My crown of sonnets continues. This is not my favorite, but I will most likely be polishing the crown (haha) when it's all said and done.