Masterpieces

They're masterpieces woven from miracle and stardust... a couple of decades to raise them up just to send 'm down goblins' road... a locket of prayers-their silky shields facing an iron fanged society brimming with rabid muzzled souls. You were once trapped in those same fiery holes that they're blindly approaching.. and half way down the devil's throat you've tossed them a God gilded rope.. They've crawled their way back home a bit less stardust in the lungs a bit more grit in the bones.. A scuffed up masterpiece needing sable hearted refurbishing. You're the stoic greying captain still stout in the fist of their storms replenishing their parched soul ponds with unconditional love and understanding and the swirling colors of faith divine. Now they don shields made of titanium scars-experience you offer them your sextant heart as they feed themselves to the godless world again.