Savior of Might

Into a hall of hallowed faith, a
frightened boy, his name forsakes. The
wandering boy brings nervous fear.
Yet wandering eyes gleam so sincere. And
in the distance, a howl calls; a lone wolf stands,
his cry enthralls. A shattered respite of hatred reply, the nomadic
and forlorn hysterical cry. Awake! Dear son, a tethered lad,
shed in skins of a lost nomad. To his mind, his body’s brought forth,
releasing plight towards the empty north. So, in the wake of tattered gore,
his weakened mind he does adore. But, to his hand a bird does fly,
liberating a ragged lullaby.

When in timeless response does lay, a motorized shape;
inviting doorway. To the door his hand did reach; a crack and creak,
and a priest did preach. A sodden man draped all in white, his
face an alluring and lulling sight. “Come to the place of my Father’s stay,
and open yourself to a brand new day.” Engaging words this
man did speak; a spark of hope, and inspiring mystique. A
taunting smile spread on his face; love and care, no one could
mistake. To his side the boy drew near, a touch of his hand,
and a mind so clear. So, when you see this holy sight,
remember this man is the Savior of might.