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the story's old the book is worn some of the pages have been torn it always begins with a child is born and ends with a mother's mourn what comes next is a sun day when the sun rises again like a new beginning after a storm rolled a stone away from the mouth of a breathing tomb resurrecting light from within like a solitary candle endlessly burning throughout blindness of life a lamp at the feet of one who walks through valleys and alleys and dark shadows of death a second wind for one who tread one's self out of breath alms for the widow bereft with none left anointing of atonement olive and aloe ointment in preparen the time whence man will opress mankind no more and there will no war and death will be no more on that day tents will fall and light will come from us all the forgotten forsaken down trotten will rise from the soil heating the couldron for the boil one and all enjoy the fruit this ain't nothing but the juice life is but a bowl of soup and a crust of bread yet every multitude will be fed
