The Sentinel
The Sentinel o’er the eons stands,
Guarding all across the lands.
It seems that none understand it though,
It just sits through the rain and snow.
Keeper of, what is still unknown,
Countless legends and tales it most own.
Day after day, night after night,
It glistens in it’s own special light.
What purpose it has,, what reasons may be,
is known to no one, not even to me.
A beacon maybe, from tose afar,
From some distance hence, from another star.
Or maybe it holds the secrets alas,
to the puzzling mysteries which has us aghast.
When we shall know, when the time shall come,
may it be known to all, or only to one.
I’ve seen it before, I’ll see it again,
but when is the time, none knows when.
It’s black surface glows in the heat of the night,
the noonday sign makes it shine bright.
For centuries have passed, eons have gone,
it stands here alone, visited by none.
The sun is gone, night has set in,
I wonder how long it’s wait has been.
For eons from now, when I’ve left this race,
the Sentinel will remain, in this same lonesome place.
©1974 Denny J Austin
