Bell, Book, Candle
By Benjamin Baxter - Fresno, California, USA - 1 December 2013
Bell, the singing crisply curt
Ringing as the end of time,
Crossly disarms man this warning
Only thrice, with yielding chime.
Now the hour of death or breath.
Now the way to home, lost, shown.
Ever more the sound, stopped, lingers.
Door left open; man alone.
Book, the sign of learned love
Seems to sit, stands all the same.
Accusation, grounded, silent
What way worse for things to blame?
For the law, for oaths recalled,
For the mind, left, lost, and mauled,
Adversary draws his bead.
Blind man gives eyes to read.
Candle, lit, for things do melt
Passing, burning, as our tears.
One night will soon be its last.
As one day we'll end our years.
Light is life, is truth, is hope.
Light and warmth, not ways of doubt.
Once the man succumbs, is dying,
Twice he's seen the lights go out.