Mighty brave, might somehow seem,
Of this child’s millstone swing.
Rest today, swept away,
Choking out freedom’s say.
Swung low, kid not mine,
Stinging sweet of hellish grind.
Black and bluish touch to drink,
Keeping bones of rake-hell weep.
At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who, then, is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me. “If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea. Matthew 18:1-6
-dedicated to the lost children of perdition-