the feeling of being very small


Inside a cathedral

Shining through the stained glass panes

Light penentrates the tombs soft gloom

Silken whispers caress the curtains

And radiate through every room

 

Time drips unmem'rably underneath

These ancient planes of pennence

Delicate inscriptions round each wraith

Sweet sents incense the senses

 

Walk through halls of hallowed awe

Staring up into streams of silver light

Glancing off the single center statue

Which all hearts wish could shed their respite

 





Poetry by Joe Fern
Read 699 times
Written on 2008-10-29 at 01:25

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