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37,904 poems read

               When the darkest hour grows calm..

                     A warm and loving soul climbs to heights above
                     Returns to the Maker's Love..........
                    Unfinished, in a corner there, stands hope,
                      and compassion's goals..
                    The Church  Bells on distant hill begins to toll....................
                    A day of sorrow fills the air, a weeping Woman,
                    Stand shaking with care, her empty tears blurs 
                    Her stare... What saddened place she dwells, like
                    Under a solitary spell, a worldly walk, on the edge 
                    Of hell...
                    But in all directions she holds faith's promise, that 
                    she holds well... Only Angels can truly tell..
                    Heavens Gates is the destination, she sees him waiting..
                    Young again and strong and tall, standing above it all..
                    For now she stands on distant place with chill, as the
                    Bell tolls up on the hill...