Thelast Don Poet Ballad

Prayer of the Last

old wooden floors,

through broken and busted doors ,

heard the holler of a feller,

so stealth, but so stellar,

but then I ask why,

for this angel would cry,

an all evenings on these boards and windows we pry,

though I have no fear,

for the end is so near,

how doom is so close to the heavens my dear.

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