A rewrite of a poem about a 'haunted' place. |
Surrounded by silent green fields The stone corridors still whisper With echoes that the walls yield. "Hallelujah," a soft heavenly purr. The stone corridors still whisper, The stone corridors still whisper "Hallelujah," a soft heavenly purr, At the Monastery Sainte-Mere. The stone corridors still whisper. Tumbled rocks and thorns abound, At the Monastery Sainte-Mere, But God certainly is alive there. Tumbled rocks and thorns abound, With echoes that the walls yield, But God certainly is alive there. Watchful, the faithful walk around. Surrounded by silent green fields the stone corridors still whisper with echoes that the walls yield. "Hallelujah," a soft heavenly purr. The stone corridors still whisper At the Monastery Sainte-Mere. Tumbled rocks and thorns abound, but God certainly is alive there. With echoes that the walls yield, watchful the faithful walk around. Under errant knights’ shields, They were cut down; worthless curs. "Hallelujah," a soft heavenly purr, faithful blood fell in these fields As the monks and monsignor watched Upon the teetering stone stair. The stone corridors still whisper, a wild rabbit leaps and bounds. In a place broken and in despair, Once again silence surrounds. Surrounded by silent green fields, the stone corridors still whisper with echoes that the walls yield. "Hallelujah," a soft heavenly purr. |