I saw a little one praying with his palms closed,
So much determination, yet in need of hope.
With his head bowed low and feet so small,
How could his whispers reach someone so far?
With just minutes left to lift off, he prayed.
He held his wife's hand to feel the grip,
Because he knew that when in space,
Even the things he could touch would slip.
Tears of solitude rise from those mellow eyes,
As she remembers the promise he made.
She prays that he walks the landmines twice
To be in her arms and never fade.
The world, in its tainted glory,
Will always need a guardian angel.
And while you are in a trench of your own,
Would you still pray for another soul?