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Tolling the Hour
Windswept moors, treacherous sea,
mysterious suspense,
mesmerizing expectancy,
Churchyard of tranquility?
Out of the shadows, finding the light,
a black veil flutters swept into flight,
tombstones marching row by row
moving not, nowhere to go?
Overwhelming calmness
senselessly we know.
A sea of empty faces
anticipate the show.
Solitary mourner standing by,
deep in heather growing so high.
~
quiet country churchyard ~
dark horseman passing by.
Nightmare of waiting ~
Has the journey ended now, all waiting just for me?
By the treacherous ocean, moaning empty sea.
Mourns hover in the bitter winter wind,
are they thinking of me or a simple sin?
Now we hear the church tower bell
tolling the warning hour.
A gust of wind encircles and gathers up a
flower.
A solitary red rose sails onto the dull gray sea.
Earth was expecting me, an overcoat for eternity
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