A bright morning comes with the scouring sun. I can see all the dirt on the floor. This house that we keep, it moans and it creaks, but we soundlessly sleep in the mire of our dying dreams. From mountain to sea, I hear the same speech: a community dreams of itself. But what have we done if we hide and we run from the pain of a person in need? This house that we built, we could lift it on stilts, but the mud would still rise to our feet through the cracks in the floor. Careful now, don’t go sleeping. Don’t leave me alone. We came bearing gifts like a map for the shift, but instead we must work for our pay. So we labor our days for a small, honest wage while the light in our eyes starts to fade. Don’t you let it fade. Our time, it is brief. I will fall like a leaf. We will all be returned in the end. But here we are now with the staggering power to live out all the dreams of the Earth. Will we wield it well? Careful now, don’t go sleeping. Don’t leave us alone. This life, it means nothing if all that we’ve done is lower our heads and wait for the gun. Sickness in soil, sickness in soul. The sun it will set, the bell it will toll. Where will you stand when the gloaming surrounds like a judgement? Salvation lives under the ground. Where will you stand at the moment of truth when the weight of your promises comes looking for you? Where will you stand?