Mornings fall

Darkness rise

Man ne'er looking to the skies

Pleading not

Suffering so

Wallowing in tort'rous woe

Blinded to

Their own doubt

Gnawing, chewing, hallows out

Precious souls

They don't care

Where to go? Now what to wear?

Worthless cares

Don't they see?

Devil's snares of "me, me, me"

Much success

Though contrite

Robbed so eas'y of their sight

Cry to them!

Oh little man

Only He saves, with His plan.