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

faith.

 

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

tears?

 

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

flickers.

 

The sun no longer gleams, night

stars dim, days move forward

burdened with images of the past,

a time before that final hour.

 

©2013.annjohnsonmurphree

Advertisements