Forgotten wagon wheel, forsaken lot,
What dust was thrown off burdened tracks it took,
Regretting ventures unknown, forsook,
Until by master’s hand, replacement sought?
Its hub unturned with shards of glass now fraught,
Near drowned by hopeful loads o’er babbled brook,
With splintered rims recaked in mire and muck,
With spokes are glory’s mourning foothold caught.
But freedom shines its golden light down broken way,
Refires our veins with newborn liberty
To shout the hymns of glory left unsung,
And force our hearts to beat and minds to sway
Great thoughts of manifested destiny
And ring the bell of freedoms left unrung.