Contra Mundum

Whispers echo in silent room Walls alone to drink their sound Like a tomb robbed and bare Possessions snatched by darkest plot

The greedy weapon used to strike Only reveals treasure beneath Not in a safe or stretched from reach But living there in quiet heart Abiding treasure which remains As shielded by the Savior’s might Treasure that topples all earth’s weight Great joy and forever delight Rich young man, one thing you lack Though the world you seem to have Rich young man, give all you own Then you shall lack none but lack