20

If you've passed up love and wealth
And find yourself poor and unwanted
Because in your brain a flame has etched
Deep channels to hold, to mold the flow
To the frame and every line of your face...

Praised though it is from one end to the other
The mighty conveyance with one faulty seal
Will shiver to bits as it tries to take skyward

... A lyric will come, you'll take it and sing.
You'll rise delivered: the soul of a king.


© Dan Goorevitch, 1998