The poetic corner of the public square
Has grown exceedingly dark and dreary,
And the fetid fog of moral relativism
Has made this place rather eerie,
The dingy marketplace of worldly poetry
Weighs us down and makes us weary.
But Our Lady ignites her little candle,
To make bright this deep dark night,
At last, beautiful sweet poetry comes to us,
That is right in God’s glorious sight,
The candle’s flame is a spearing sword,
Ready to fight for the one true Light.