There are bells here
Silent bells
They seem so out of place
Surrounded by the immaculate stonework
And accompanied by righteous statutes
Stilled angels
Their silent echoes
Reverberate off of the people
Who stand in perfect mockery
Of the stone figures scattered about the church
All of them here to partake
In an obsolete tradition
Of grief
An unmistakably deathly feeling
Fills the air
However the feeling is foreign to me
And I cannot comprehend
This ceremony of antique sorrow
For the breathing statues Morn
As if their tears were rehearsed
and what I feel is so raw
A silent moment is called for
and as if on cue the bells toll
three times, just three
Silence, sorrow, death,
All marked by
The tolling of the bells
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 10:26 AM UTC
There are bells here
Silent bells
They seem so out of place
Surrounded by the immaculate stonework
And accompanied by righteous statutes
Stilled angels
Their silent echoes
Reverberate off of the people
Who stand in perfect mockery
Of the stone figures scattered about the church
All of them here to partake
In an obsolete tradition
Of grief
An unmistakably deathly feeling
Fills the air
However the feeling is foreign to me
And I cannot comprehend
This ceremony of antique sorrow
For the breathing statues Morn
As if their tears were rehearsed
and what I feel is so raw
A silent moment is called for
and as if on cue the bells toll
three times, just three
Silence, sorrow, death,
All marked by
The tolling of the bells
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