Brokenheart You call one thing from us,
Nothing that the least could lack
Nor the greatest spare.
You simply want our all,
Broken and poured out as a waterfall,
Or countless tiny streams dancing down
Martyrdom or living sacrifice it is the same
The river of our love is Your desire.
So take this offering,
It is small and often trembles,
It may never be a waterfall,
But it is a trickle flowing out to you
From the broken ground of my being,
And it will become a river,
If I can be thus emptied
Then I shall not be ashamed
At the end
To stand with Martyrs
On the shining shore.