I pray for the return of a long lost era
Where my wellbeing was your addiction
One’s intentions couldn’t be any purer
To die for another was a beautiful affliction
I ponder the path the patriarchs walked
Sift through the debris of a ruined institution
The only remnant is a tattered cassock
A grave reminder of a forsaken benediction
A cross hangs exalted but no longer symbolic
The true path too narrow for a new generation
The governments of men are all shambolic
A new order born from an ungodly insurrection
I pray for the return of a forgotten era
Where love was nowhere close to extinction
Our heart’s countenance couldn’t be any fairer
For in You we lived with no fear of damnation.
“Where are the entrusted shepherds?
You work the gold fields instead of souls
Who will tend the starving herd?
My flock scatter in search of the truth.”
Written by Albert Owusu-Konadu