Sen O Lord

A cold wind blows, sharp and piercing,

Striking the walls of hearts long asleep—

Silent slumber in the soul’s deep keep,

Growing dry, yearning for Your mercy.

The world and humankind drift far apart,

Seeking God on paths so dark and stark.

Souls in sorrow, sinking in sin’s deep mire,

Under the touch of the deceiver’s fire.

Your holy home, Your sacred altar stands,

Like strangers living in each heart’s lands.

Chorus:

O Lord, send forth Your holy ones,

Send Your prophets to heal this world undone.

Hallowed be Your name above,

Come and reign with endless love.