for the glory of God

I see the baby suffer
as she dies
(she dies so cold
as death is such a cold and lonely thing)
I see her suffer
so alone.

I eat the food
but there is no joy in this feast,
how can there be joy
when she has suffered so.

I drink the wine,
but I can not find relief,
how can there be solace
even in sleep or spirit
when she lays in the dark earth's arms.

For the Glory of the God who takes her,
I search for meaning
where there is only sadness,
how can there be God
as she suffers so alone?

I see the baby suffer
she suffers so
alone

As death, that beast,
that cold cold beast,
is such a lonely thing.