A Prayer, A Poem

Four, three, two

A day ago

I walked down, a-rode,

Alone

And saw such a sight, behold:

Now what was sacred’s stolen, and what’s stolen’s sacred

As the cult of over-stimulation rears its ugly bee-hind

What was beautiful is now behind Us

Now, how can I say what’s sacred?!

When such deaths have occurred before and in front of me

For it was not just a day ago, but today too:

That such sights were seen

: (

Here lie these fallen heroes, Here lie these Kings of Wind

For every breath of Air we breathe comes from a flutter of mighty Wings

O Angels, now let your wings take them even further, even higher above

For this Earth, this ground became too filled with poison

As we pumped pompous pints of poisonous plumes into the sky

We poisoned the very ancestors of our spirits above

Now show me Spirits, Show me what’s sacred!

Let these Fallen Warriors become Sacred, become Heroes, once More

/

Without the beauty of birds,

The world seems a bit greyer

The higher the flyers

The birds are greater

O Spirits of the Sky!

Accept this prayer

O Watcher from Above,

Accept our Love

At the end of this prayer, at the end o’ these Eulogies

I want to Offer and offer sincerest Apolo*-Jeezus

*Apollo

Now I know, now I know They’re gone

Now I know

They’re nearer, my god, to Thee

Now prayers of ours are answered for me

Now

It’s clearer, my Gods, to me