That Final Hour…

Open my beating chest;

listen to the rhythm of

the heart whispering

sorrow in conflict with

a soul that does not

question fate, a soul

that believes in keeping



Who triumphed – the

Heavenly Host, Fear, or

Pain, as a sweet light

removed from life floated

away to a heavenly

destination, upon a sea of



Happiness forever removed;

no longer are there happy

hearts, only sadness walks

through the prairie of time.


The Spirit struggles with a

veiled eternity, despair is born;

winged hope hovers, the world

motionless as the flame of life



The sun no longer gleams, night

stars dim, days move forward

burdened with images of the past,

a time before that final hour.