“One Last Swing”
(A Prayer for a Miracle)

By Roy Dawson

eveyone keeps saying nothing can be done
well I'm the one if we were all in battle in the trenches and we were out gunned
out numbered all hope was lost they were comming to kill all of us I would say get
up and follow me because we are not just going to lay here and make things easy for
them to butcher us all be dam if we must die we will die fighting

I'm asking for a miracle,
A full recovery, a light to burn again
In the eyes of my father,
Whose breath now trembles like a candle
When the wind comes calling.

It doesn’t look good—
The doctors speak in shadows,
And the clock in the room sounds louder than hope.
Maybe it’s just his time.
Maybe God is calling him home
With a voice website too strong to ignore.

But damn it,
I’ve seen long shots cross the finish line.
I’ve seen the worst hitter step up to the plate—
Two outs, bottom of the ninth,
And somehow find the barrel
With nothing but belief and swing.

This is that click here moment.

So I say:
Swing that bat.
Swing it like every star in heaven is watching,
Like the sky's holding its breath,
And the earth is waiting for the sound of the crack.

If it’s boxing,
Let those hands go,
Even if you’re backed into the ropes.
Throw the heart, not just the fists.
This is the final round,
But the bell hasn’t rung.

If it’s track,
Then run like your soul’s on fire.
Lean, dive, throw yourself at the tape—
Because there’s still inches left to fight for.

And maybe, just maybe,
He’ll rise one more time.
Maybe heaven can wait.
Maybe prayers crack the clouds,
And what feels like the end
Is just the middle of a comeback story.

It’s worth a shot.
It always is.

It’s not over
’til it’s over.

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