Ignorant Child

They call you ignorant
When once they sang your praise
Pure and perfect they once named you
Without blemish, stain or spot
Full of hope and truth and purest light
I still hold you in high regard
Youth, who stands in the storm
Child, who questions the emperor
Babe, who loves the world
I'll no blade of sun to your throat bring
To sully snow-white skin
Ignore for now the truth
That lies in deepest red

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This work is Copyright (c) Mike Fletcher 2006