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Amidst the solitude of empty pews in hallowed halls
she took a seat and prayed she would not be forsaken.
Candles lit, soft glow throwing shadows on the walls.
Tear glistened cheeks, cries for all death had taken.

In whispered breath she begged for her heart to mend,
taking comfort in memories to free her from the gloom
of misery so burdensome that she could not comprehend
why the one she loved lay buried, sealed within a tomb. 

Fate's sting cuffed a cruel blow with its callous reach,
leaving her heart stabbed deep enough to make it bleed.
In supplication, she prayed for healing and to beseech,
that in her time of need, "Merciful Father, please intercede."

In her hand, a wilted rose; once a radiant crimson flower,
its fragrance mingled with the scent of votives as they melt.
No solace found; she left the darkness of that sullen hour.
Remaining was the imprint of sorrow where she had knelt.

She walked in moonlight, grieving for love, once savored,
mourning, bereaved and lost in deep emotional despair.
She sang a hymn with lips that trembled and quavered,
mist falling on widow's weeds, she had the need to wear.




December 19, 2020
A Rhyme Story-Poem with Eyes On
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose

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