July 11, 2024

Quingist Empire

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In shadows deep, where doubts may roam,
A flicker sparks, a light called home.
Through trials vast, in the darkest night,
There blooms a flower, pure and bright.

Faith, a beacon in the storm,
A melody, a soothing warm.
It whispers softly, in quiet grace,
Embracing hearts in love’s embrace.

In valleys low, where shadows play,
Faith stands tall, it lights the way.
A bridge across the raging stream,
A thread of hope in every dream.

Beyond the veil of fear and strife,
Faith is the compass of this life.
It paints the canvas of the soul,
A masterpiece, a story whole.

Through thunderous clouds and skies of gray,
Faith weaves a quilt of sunlit rays.
It breathes in whispers through the trees,
And dances with the summer breeze.

A trust that soars on wings untamed,
In every heartbeat, it is named.
It’s not confined to walls or pews,
But in the humble, in the news.

In unity, it finds its might,
A force that turns the darkest night.
Faith’s not blind, it sees the truth,
A wellspring in the heart of youth.

So let it blossom, let it soar,
This timeless gift forevermore.
In every step, in every breath,
Faith transcends the grasp of death.

lets always have faith

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