Least Be Found Poem by Thomas Kane

Waste not in winter's eve.
Taste soon apples heir.
First sin cast out of gardens glow.
Least be found, what clay we ground
Whom to toil against one's shadow

Serpents moral story cast two to leave
Venture this land, till gasp last gulp of air
Back to the earth, sleep the decomposing flow
Least be found to chance or folly found
Hell pits boil at the depths cast the few below

Life brought by mere chance a dare do you
Religion a tool for society's school
One it starts a percent it remains
Least be found a soul with a savior
Onward asking looking for the answer

Faith is holy a divine presence aware
Translation not needed but an ear to hear
A message repeated for all to find
Least be found this flock on holy ground
Square lance ring rounds a pretty finger though