when giants fight

I walked through the ruins of my own prayers, Amidst the weight of demonic stares. Their eyes were mirrors, showing what I’d lost, Defining clear sin’s sinister cost. But somewhere deep, a whisper breaks the frost; Hopes’ heated vision, at last, un-lost. A trembling hand reaches for the morning light, In hopes of escape from that mourning night. Yet even as shadows stretch, faith holds tight, Holding to hope, despite ancient plight. Still, through the storm, a quiet song takes flight; Who stands to gain when giants fight? But mercy whispers softly, veiling the spite, Because heaven’s host already won the night.