Last Words Played Poem by Michael Walkerjohn

crossroads unknown,
either barren or overgrown;
back through consiousness,
if confusion only knew;
things which conquer hearts,
lists peen realization's starts;
things remind emotions,
things define devotion;
gazing, glazes ayed subjects,
raving madness, faults the object;
through those few who are left,
I move astutely, the world's heft;
that body is now returned,
love and life together are burned;
overcoming, humanity's sin filled measure,
guardian of all creation's treasures;
here to champion love's last chance,
for preserving humankind's last dance;
on the moon's surface the creator's face,
need now to completely restore this place;
intent is to continue on this mission alone,
call out for all his forces, accompany time's own.