The church was now derelict long deserted
in the tower the bell still hung!
Once a holy and respected parish church
left to crumble and rot!
The locals avoided this known land mark
especially after dark!

The familiar sound of the single ringing bell
echoed over the valley.
Filling them with apprehension and dread
it's tone always deep.
How it rang nobody knew there was no rope
in a place that had lost hope!

Sixty years since the sound of load singing
had filled the church.
Happy parishioners filling the oak pews
but faith faded as they died.
Others moved to find secure employment
few remained still content!

Visitors on the narrow lanes heard the bell
often they just kept going.
But attracting the addicted like a beacon
seeking a sanctuary.
Mesmerised by the rhythmic ringing bell
summoning them to hell!

The bell rang that single sombre monotonous note
a desperate soul listened before slitting his throat!

Beside him was his pathetic belongings and the
drug paraphernalia! The bell never stopped!

The Foureyed Poet.