The Lost Boy


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1. The Lost Boy

The age came of Reason, Good people to be cast out. False prophets were in season, Conditioned minds inset doubt.

Not there to be seen, All about them, he stood. To the ignorant obscene, Not seeing he was good.

Cursed they are, the blessings, Chains bound is free-will. Learned there still are lessons, Fancy in faith lives not to kill.

Silent, a child, in his glorious house, Not yet saying those words so pure. Quiet, still remaining a clichéd mouse, Until certain, steadfast, and sure.

He waited for me to find, What he believed I could. Eyes that were once blind, Bare witness, they would.

That you may forgive my dear honesty, To you, All Powerful, I bare palms. Upon this life and after, Majesty, See fit to shelter me from harms.

Wash clean my head And forgive my tongue, For the things I have said, For the things I have done.

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