Once this land was light— a hymn upon the hills, a cradle of faith and peace. Now the air trembles with blood and silence, and love has grown cold. The prophets warned us: kin against kin, truth trampled underfoot, and hearts turning to stone. Revelation walks among us now. Mothers weep, friends betray, justice wanders barefoot in the dark. The cross still stands— but few still look its way. Yet even as the skies darken, a whisper calls through the ruins: Return. For mercy waits, like morning after the storm.