Gulu children lost and forgotten,
living terrified in paradise.
Cannot trust in man. Cannot trust in God.
Will your silent cries fill the air around me?
Will the blood cry out?
Will the blood cry out?
Will needless shame cast your eyes down
as you pay for the sins of generations past?
Tender flowers picked too soon.
Young butterflies forced to fly
on wings that have not yet dried.
Will your hearts learn to heal?
I am leaving you now and returning to a life that you have never known. A life of safety and shelter. A life of peace and plenty. To days of freedom and nights without fear. Yes, it seems I am leaving you now but much of my heart will stay here. And on the rest of my heart, that part that remains with me, you are forever inscribed, etched by the hand of our Father. It is He Who brought me here. It is He Who shall bring me here again.
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