Far From The Beginning

Gone is the sun,
Blotted out by the gray mass,
Gone are the rains,
Those that started all this.
Broken floorboards litter the ground,
Puddles reflect the disaster,
What can be left of us, dear Lord?
After the damage, after the scourge.
The people here are tough, firm,
See what life has done to us,
Our bodies are withered, torn,
Nowhere at all is without despair.
Cast out of the only Garden,
Tricked by the devilish snake,
Death is among us
And pain in its wake.
Kind Lord, even here He found us,
Lost in the flood,
Lost without hope, without direction,
Still He takes our hands, takes our faith.