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The Minister

The Western Den

What can make the minister fall?
What can shake his servant’s stature?
Belittled, broken, and forced to crawl home
Forced to crawl home
What can drive his shattered limbs?

Who’s to shelter over him?
For there’s a long and painful road,
Crowded with the bodies we’ve all known
Why walk to jericho,
To be robbed of our needs and left alone?
You are far too old,
To tread the waters of a wretched soul

Hold on to the fire in your bones,
Don’t go; stay weary of this road
Peace, may peace surround you with the breeze,
Don’t leave,
Don’t leave me
What can make the minister fall?