Somalia

Hidden behind a mask of clay,
A lone Man stands in fear,
He reels from opportunity
To share His life, so dear,

With other Souls around Him,
Who ache to follow so,
He hides forever humble,
And afraid of what we know.

But when the trumpet sounds its note,
The Angels sing their song,
The time will come to play His part,
And do that for which men long,

To be a pinnacle of truth,
Strong of Will on high,
To sound the note of Oneness,
And colour so the sky.