Carmine Branco

A prayer

The night is cold

and dense with mist, 

a heavy heart is lost

and stranded. 

Twas faith or

chance that brought 

you here to bring

my soul to ransom.

I shiver with worry

for your despair,

oh infant child

forced to rapidly grow. 

Not injured flesh

shall give you respite, 

for cruelty is not humane 

and pain does not heal pain. 

I wander through heavens doors 

alas, that prayers may be heard

and troubles pass. 

I will be hoping, 

at dawn's first light,

your safety to keep,  

through the cold

winter's night. 

 



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