
A Poet's last prayer foretold,
Of the righteousness of men.
Once forsaken, and yet, found,
A meaning for those who can,
Though few will hear the sound.
By the flowing sands of time,
The written word in bold.
Of a poet's thought in rhyme,
For all now to behold.
A conveyance to mankind,
To heed for, and to hold.
To search for, and to find,
A poet's last prayer foretold.
(c)2004-Billy Rebel- International Society of Poetry
