Providence

Costumed and cross-faded, you walk alone again
without a battle hymn.
Sore knees bear the weight of a prayer your mother sings
for providence to bring

the strong and steady hand
of someone undaunted by the darker side of man.

Silent on the citadel you sat still among
the barking of their tongues
while deep inside an innocent heart they forged a fear;
a whisper in your ear.

The sun don't rise or fall.
This wicked world was not designed with you in mind at all.

But soft light, it casts your shadow long.
And somewhere you've heard it all before.



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