Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted? it is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men.

Matthew 5:13 (KJV)

You are the salt of the earth, the hidden grace
That seasons sorrow, checks the creeping rot,
Preserves the good where virtue finds no place,
And cuts through dullness with a living edge.
But if that salt grows flat, its fire grown cold,
No skill restores the savor it once gave;
It crumbles useless on the common mold,
Fit only to be scattered on the grave.
O faithful ones, once bright against the night,
What happens when your witness turns to show?
When love grows safe, and truth bends to delight,
And holy fire becomes a hearth’s dull glow?
The world will walk across what it revered
And trample underfoot what should have steered.
Yet even now, a single spark may rise—
A contrite heart, a prayer that will not cease—
To draw the salt from ashes to the skies
And wake the ancient flame of truth and peace.
Will you be remade, restored to burning worth,
Or trampled underfoot as worthless earth?