By B. Long January 25, 2026
What ever happened to the world?
It’s all take, take, take
Mutter worry and groan.
What ever happened to life?
Where hope is more than a figment known,
Where joy is real,
Where hope heals.
Peace on earth,
And goodwill to men
This is where your story begins.
Wandering through the winding streets of shadowed stone,
The world is fear and fight,
A ceaseless march into the night.
Hope despairing,
In a life of comparing,
Trials of darkness overbearing.
The mirror holds no value
To the man who is a shadow,
Empty of light.
His heart is empty of hope for the morrow.
Glassy eyes behold the night,
But what story lies in the empty strife
Behind the store fronts of glass—allurements of luxury?
One more dollar,
One more watch,
One more night dulled by scotch.
After another night out,
Maybe then this despair will be put to drought.
Tripping and falling through nihilism befalling,
You collapse into the alley’s throat.
And there a presence descends,
A spirit of light,
A spirit so bright.
Fear has become your flesh—
Incarnate terror woundingly fresh.
A voice speaks, and it sings:
“In this life there is more than mere strife.”
It sounds of bells and rings;
The sound of a choir of angels sings.
The searing hot light shields all view,
Only this spirit is contained in new.
A warmth enters inside, burning like fire—
But not of the sort of which you will die.
It consumes without destroying.
You ask, “Is this my end?”
The spirit sings:
“Life is what you make of it.
The prophecy is fulfilled.
Do not fear—God is with you
In this once cold alley of drear.
What hope lies in these enjoyments of man,
Of materialistic love,
And belittlement of God above?
I’ll tell you something:
God is not dead.
Hope is in the heart
Of the man who hears—
The peace of the angels near.
This is love through action,
And love through word.
It will bring peace on earth
And goodwill to men.
Love and serve,
And this emptiness will retreat.
Use your life for the good of others—
Only in this will purpose feel earned”
The light subsides and a life reenters your eyes.
“Purpose through action”, you think.
“This is love indeed”
Love has reentered the heart that once again knows how to bleed.