Fathers who were not loved as boys, stand helpless before love.
A son who sees that emptiness in his father sees is too late for his father.
That son, will he ever realize the tragedies that have come before his own days?
There is no son, no father, for father or son too ashamed.
Daughters sin against the silence. Their trespasses save.
Infants lead the family; in need, they lead, in want they lead, in tears.
Mothers who were not loved as girls, are broken before love.
A daughter who sees that emptiness in her mother sees it too soon for her mother, for her daughter.
That daughter, will she ever forget the tragedies that have come before her own days?
There is no daughter, no mother, for mother or daughter not ashamed.
Sons praise the silence. Their fidelity saves.
In Bethlehem, the Infant comes to lead; in need, in sorrow, His tears will cleanse us all.