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On Stopping Big Ben

Our bell is silent now;
Silence marks the passing of each hour.
The tower has no comment, makes no sound
Despite thirteen tons of primeval power.

Our bell is silent now;
The sun dimmed in mute protestation
The day it stopped, the day life turned
Into a sentence lacking punctuation.

Our bell is silent now;
It used to speak, same call to all,
No misunderstanding, no spin of truth,
Unlike those below in marbled hall.

Our bell is silent now;
Our voice diminished across the sphere,
Our orb and sceptre have played their part.
This isle now travels in hope or fear.

Our bell is silent now;
For four long years it will draw its breath,
And then exhale when hammer strikes,
To mark the tides of life and death.

Our bell is silent now;
Its tone and timbre oft in doubt,
Cracked and flawed like us all.
We’ll all miss his freedom shout.

Our bell is silent now;
Its silence diminishes us all.
As clods are washed away by sea,
Who does the bell toll for?
It tolls for thee.

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