Catholic during the Great Apostasy

Let Us Praise the Lord in Our Souls

Let us build churches upon the rock of our faith,
Only then shall we find God within us,
Only then shall we draw near to Heaven’s gates.

Lord, I know You find no faith upon this earth.
The world has veiled the light of Wisdom,
Replaced Truth with lies,
Intelligence with folly,
Morality with beastly desire.

The Third Temple lies in ruins,
Among the rubble, the last of us hide.
Modernist hordes, like vultures,
Feast upon their hatred of all Your Son has given.

To endure in solitude—this is our fate.
At times, a heavy tear will fall,
The pain of helplessness tears the heart apart.
The veil has lifted—nothing is concealed.

Yet they, though they kneel in churches,
Cry out in silence:
“Crucify Him! His blood be on us and on our children.”

Such is this earthly world of ours—
A wasteland of history, a cradle of impurity.

Stone by stone, truth by truth—
We still build, though strength sometimes fails.
Hope is the last to die—
And when it does, only weeping remains.

“Lord, Lord…” they call,
But so many shall hear:
“I know you not.”