Poezja

A love sprung
From hates dark embrace
Like a bell thst rung
By god's sweet grace

A bell so black
It should never chime
Yet it tells a tale
As old as time

Two birds that alone
Would never sing
Yet together the beauty of thier love
Is like a meadow in spring

An artist's touch
It seems to be
In a world that seems as cold as stone
Their love keeps them free

A world of love
If only in their dreams
The purest truth when the world outside
Isn't as it seems

When the thruth
Seems to have fled
And all hope
Seems long dead

Alone we may be
Flawed and broken
For each in turn
Christ has spoken