The Prayer

Alone, broken in the shadows of your night,

a man humbled and unmoving comes to kneel before your light.

And if his is a face you've never seen before,

will you still, with open arms, welcome him in beyond your door?

Now I don't usually ask for favors

from forces I can't see or hear,

but tonight I'll throw my pride into the wind.

This is a prayer for anyone who will listen,

and if you're really winged, grow wings

this day,

to wrap around him, free from any harm,

but in the end, please leave him in our arms

to stay.

Tongue twisted, wits tested, throat parched,

but his meaning is clear.

Dream driver, survivor, left without the means

to drive himself away from here.

Mother Mary sits beside his bed and starts to pray,

and though we may have different gods, he figures it will never hurt to say.

He calls me to his side,

whispers words to make me smile,

but this is no time for goodbyes…

As the tears roll down his cheek,

One for everything he's lost,

He watches as they fall to the ground in silence.

I still see him as a king,

Even though too weak to stand,

They can try to bend his will,

But they will never break this man.