I saw his face so many times
Three thousand maybe more,
I saw him first in Palestine
Then again in Singapore.
When the world was all in flames
And man a beast became,
He would call to see me every day
But would not give his name.
His eyes were black like un-forged steel
The smile was more a grin,
With arm outstretched he showed the way
Like a slave I followed him.
It was more than forty years ago
That he visited each day,
More recently just once or twice
Has he called around this way.
Where my hair now has turned quite grey
And my face accentuates the strain,
He appears still young with his crooked grin
And eyes which still show flame.
He waves his hand and beckons
For me to follow him again,
But I smile right back and say "No more"
And he slowly goes away.