Norman Geary Poet Narrative

The Bell Tolls

Its not an option,
You no longer have a choice.
The Bell Tolls
The sound of the door,
Begins to open.
It preys at your heavy heart,
The family slowly proceed,
Toward the front of the altar.
Cries and tears,
Saturate the thick air.
The ministers voice,
Cuts open,
The secret of silence.
The Bell Tolls
The casket lowers,
Tears dry,
Roses are frozen,
In dead space.
The Bell Tolls

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