Last Chariot Poem by Kurt Philip Behm

Seventh Son of a Seventh Son
the night has a thousand eyes

The music fades, past dance is done
the future's siren cries

Seventh Son of a Seventh Son
all prophecy would say

Your father deaf, your mother blind
bequeathed of both you pray

Seventh Son of a Seventh Son
last chariot at the gate

New flames have come, the beating drums
the lots have cast your fate

Seventh Son of a Seventh Son
one choice to leave or stay

Deception fore, with lies behind
—time killing either way

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July,2018)