Prayer

When therefore great Father Saint and our driver, us your reasons knowers will be saved? The world is changing I feel it in the water, I taste it in the air on the moisture of the ground, shades in the clearing of midday, whispers of horrible voices echoing against the Stone. Drums crying and us inside the mine drinking the sulphur, the knife in the scabbard has spoken also two flowers bent on the step of a trespasser. The black dog raised itself to us in the night, knowing that came the hour the last, it is time to give the blood and the sweat and the white tooth. Brother will cut brother in blow body with body looking at the blood as it rolls slowly from the rock' s head. The wheels of fortune turns. Crowned and cleaned with light the suntanned breasts and the hands, dark bodies wild embraced with glances sincere and comfort on there walk laughing. Our chariot driver, father, God Unknown! Unwrite what its written to be done on this land of Heroes, gently I grasp they and hand you flakes of winter.