Whisper soft the rain that fell,
careless winds are stilled this morn.
Gone the stealthy shadows lost,
the night has passed the day is born.
Stirring is the dream of being,
deep within the mourners breast.
Sorrowed eyes, no light, unseeing,
hands are clasped, within, unrest.
Rosary beads, the broken dreams,
prayers unheard, by him, unknown.
No compassion, no forgiveness,
no hope from him who bears the crown.
Soft fall the tears within the chapel,
half stifled sobs, her haunting cries.
His life has passed and her’s is empty,
no questions answered, no replies.
