pray

without ceasing

they said

but

there is

life to live

people to love

places to go

books to read

music to hear

flowers to smell

rivers to see

mountains to climb

the well

runs

dry

there

in

the days

with no numbers

amongst

the morning breaths

and enemies

the city fights

and bad harmonies

the unmade beds

and crying babies

the poisoned streams

and wet tent memories

pray

without

ceasing