Queens Church
by Darren Franz
Saturday, January 19, 2002
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Crumbling steeple; none so thick,
Wire held and powdered brick.
Once a pillar of mighty strength,
Now weathered years have at length,
Brought you from your place on high,
The talk of tongues and eyes that pry.
So melancholy, I must cry,
Where you’ve stood, there’s only sky.
Angels and disciples once have tread,
They are gone so all have fled.
Darkness remains among candle’s ebb,
Spiders immersed in gossamer web.
So melancholy, I must cry,
Only emptiness as I pass by.
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