A AnatoSwu
Satakha Town
The year now wanes, its final light
Flickers low against the night.
For some, 2025 was kind—
Fields bore fruit, dreams aligned.
Laughter found a lasting home,
Prayers answered, wounds outgrown.
Yet for many, the same sun rose
On days of grief and unseen throes.
Tears were stitched into each dawn,
Loved ones lost, familiar gone.
Across the earth, in ash and flame,
War scarred cities, crushed the unnamed.
Borders bled, the helpless cried,
Truth was bent, and peace denied.
The world grew weary, hearts grew tight,
As shadows stretched their longest might.
Persecution’s weight increased-
Faith was tested, rest decreased.
Believers hunted, silenced, torn,
Still clung to hope tho’ bruised and worn.
Our hearts are troubled, heavy still,
By hatred’s roar and violence’s will.
Yet here we stand-unbroken, stayed,
By love our strongest barricade.
We choose to strive, to still abide,
In faith that lifts, in truth our guide.
Tho’ lies parade in borrowed light,
Truth shall rise with quiet might.
We guard our hearts, our homes, our kin,
Against the siege that wars within.
With every trial, we shall grow,
Stronger than the blows we know.
Adversaries sharpen us,
Suffering refines our trust.
We will not yield to fear or hate,
Nor bow to schemes of dark deceit.
So help us, God, as we release
This battered year to Your own peace.
As we bid farewell to 2025,
And step toward dawn, still bold, alive—
We lift our eyes, our hands, our song,
Ready for 2026, made strong.
We shall endure. We shall believe.
By love, by truth—we shall overcome.
