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.