Tears In Heaven
Implore the heavens
And feel its constant lament
For no one has ever entered
Its gates, and it waits.
They say, time stands still.
For those who wait, it is real.
When a place of peace
Is not filled with families
It cannot be called a home
But a museum.
It may be “Les Beaux Arts”, yet
Visits, this realm only gets.
No doubt the blessing
Of views into this dwelling,
its beauty and extreme bliss
Free of agony.
For true love there, is the air
We breathe forever.
When it disappears
From prying eyes, filled with tears
And we suffocate, we hope
We'll be there one day.
Little we see that the tears
Are God's too, seeing us leave.
By CarolineCécile
Copyright © 06.22.10
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