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Last Night in the Chapel
by
Rusty Broadspear
Humble yet empowered in true faith
The select few knelt and prayed in black and white,
For the colourful starving, downtrodden
And war torn nations.
Candles flared forging frantic shadows
That skittered to Holy and Blessed murmurs.
As a solitary bell tolled
Moonlight illuminated the lonely Chapel
In black and white.
A sacred apparition in barren windy waste,
Decorated only with death and suffering.
Prayers rode the wind to coloured souls.
Stars; glistening eyes of the Heavens,
Watched over with heavy sadness
As their timely arc traced the sky,
In black and white.
Miserable messages of despondency and despair
Coloured the air.
Silent tears fell from hope filled eyes,
As the World lazily turned and coloured
Wars continued, downtrodden spurned,
And the starving idly died.
The select few prayed regardless,
Whilst in black and white, the whole World cried.
Wind morphed into a black wild storm,
Candles were doused, deflamed, defrocked.
The Chapel echoed with hushed emptiness
In stark black and white.
Invisible hands slapped the doors shut,
While the rest of the colourful World rocked.
The eyes of Heaven squeezed tightly shut
When the first of many missiles pierced the night.
Momentarily lighting the Chapel
In a different black and white,
As it dashed overhead.
And the rest of the colourful World
Was finally put to bed.
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