Many were the hours my head was bowed,
Supplicating mindless deities;
(With what foolish thoughts man is endowed!
But  . . . we pick and choose our liberties)

Then I had a most disturbing dream . . .
I saw mountains of unanswered prayer,
Mankind's tears formed an eternal stream,
While the dust of dead gods filled the air

And amidst this turmoil and malaise
Stood the ruins of an empty throne
Where the ghosts of Folly sang their praise,
Paying homage to the Great Unknown

In a state of panic I awoke --
Was this vision my epiphany?
Perhaps Truth dons a deceitful cloak
To disguise the barbs of Reality?

Countless times these hands have clasped in prayer,
And to each prayer futile hope was pinned . . .
An imagined throne with no one there . . .
Endless litanies  . . . lost to the wind!

Yet, Hope's chrism courses through our veins
Every time we utter useless prayers;
If only all those passionate refrains
Were acknowledged by someone who cares!

Will you dare to heed this clarion call?
Ease the heart of someone in despair!
Kindly acts - although they may be small,
Just might be the answer to a prayer