The Hiding Place
The bustling Tarshish is now a skeleton city
With an echo howling from one broken ship to another;
Kadesh-barnea is no longer attractive –the bread therein has become stale;
Jericho is in confusion –the walls have tumbled, and there’s no one to rebuild
Babylon, the beautiful Babylon now gazes at passerby,
The precious stones and jewelry in its port all disappeared
The kings of fame and valor, all gone to their eternal home –
All in the pit with their horses and horsemen.
To what then do you hold for substance through the ages?
To which hideout can one run
In times of tried and of storm?
Find out, there’s a place
And there alone make your refuge
I think the point is that there is no real hiding place. Thanks for sharing.