For You, Lord of Prophecy Messages from the stratosphere Music plucked on the lyre The sun beats down Time stands still, Pythia speaks I hear your sacred guidance In the herds, in song, watching sunset & sunrise. Healing arts are your gift Keeping your temper is also my challenge Love blindly handsome Youth of the bow The raven beats its inky wings The scent of bay on the air I feel your protection Lord and I thank thee
Written by Starlit
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