Chapel of Love
By Buzby
THE CHAPEL OF LOVE There is a church deep in the woods, and though I never went before something guided me there last week, I was amazed by what I saw. A sign hung on the wooden gate; ‘Welcome to the chapel of love, all who enter within this place are blessed with a gift from above.’ Amassed in the chapel to pray, the spirits of love that had died, hearts that had sadly been broken, and tears that had sadly been cried. The choir within sung of hope, not dwelling on sorrow or grief. They praised the love that had blessed them, though often its time had been brief. In a corner of the churchyard, I saw the ground was parched and bare, and all the tombstones bore the names of every love I’d buried there. Though I had mourned each in passing, on this day I shed not one tear, for each now was resting in peace, at last I had nothing to fear. I placed a red rose at the head of each one of those lovelorn graves, and quietly I said a small prayer, for love that I so gladly gave. Written November 26th, 2001 © on Nov 26 2001 04:15 AM PST 0 • 8
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"THE CHAPEL OF LOVE..."