In a world filled with thorns
Man is born into trouble no doubt
But oftentimes, man seems to forget
To remember that God has the last word
To Him it’s like putting ice in a hot pan
Man will easily forget
That God is our only hope in times such as this
Like a sleeping baby
He’ll shut his ears

In a world filled with thorns
That daily seeks those whom it may devour
They’ve become walking thorns
The license to kill they do have
In our very own world
Once it was in the east, then the west
Today it is down south
North has been torn apart
A thorn that seeks to leave a scar

One tends to ask
Is there no balm to heal the wounds?
Maybe we could ease the pain
Beholding the dear souls of loved ones
Perishing like in a wilderness
Being bitten daily, only left at the onset of scars
What a hope we may find
To heal the wounds, we bear
In Jesus alone lies the last word
In a world of scars, only He has the balm
To heal the wounds…