The child

Glorious light covers him tonight.
Him: unaware
and silent, six years old and sleeping.
The rest of us: dying and waiting for him to grow old.
Old enough to save us.
Yeah, so save us.
Green glorious light covers him tonight.
One hundred twenty volts wired straight to his soul, but
beyond the hills a shadow is falling through the
valley of ashes where death meets destruction.
Ya, so lead us.
The reign of death will die and we
will strike keepin on his perseverance merits
preservation.
Our enemies sails will hang on
broken masts and their tackle will be rendered
useless.
Sometimes it takes the mind of a child to
overcome.
If it’s what you’ve found, trust what
you see. Ask: is there something wrong with this
picture? And take it over.