Lord, let this world choke
    On its ragged masses,

    Let it gag on its damned,
    Its guilty and guiltless--no,

    Allow no innocent souls,
    But guide them all, hand

    In hand, not to heaven,
    But to some high spot of land

    Of their own, where they can be
    The last to see the darkness fall

    And let them rest there, all
    And be whole.


Copyright © Jefferson Adams, 2002.  All Rights Reserved.