The layered glory and weakness,
The wounded and the broken,
Finally receive good news.
Some of the lost have been found.
Some of the dying have been saved.
Some of the bad have been beaten.
Some of the good have been saved.
Drowning in a sea of joyful tears,
Their child is found.
The person has been saved.
The faded glory and dull pain,
The small and the significant,
Don't always receive good news.
Some of the hopeful have quit.
Some of the strong have fallen.
Some of the faithful no longer pray.
Lost in the pain of disillusionment,
The child isn't found.
The person has not been saved.
But we try.
The former glory and strength,
The faith and hope,
Don't always return.
Some are broken.
Some are angered.
Some are tired.
Even facing the end of time,
When man kills man,
Some remain strong and hopeful.
And we pray, whether we believe or not.
We have to do something, we have to try.
Not for us, but for everyone.
The glory and the pride,.
To protect and to serve.
The body of work most people hate,
But everyone needs.
The right to remain silent,
The Freedom of speech,
Just One job,
To Change a life.
By protecting everyone else's.