PURGATORY <br /> <br />I went down into Sheol, where all my bones <br />Were numbered like knots of whited rope; <br />All of them were broken; Bereft of all hope, <br />In blackness I had awoken to a sky devoid of tones, <br />To a sigh deprived of light. <br />Yet in the dire dark of that good, sacred night, <br />Faith beyond faith sustained my flight <br />Through ghastly veils, <br />And starless pales, <br />Where shadows mocked my desperate plight. <br />Then came the gold and regal dawn, <br />As I raised my hands, tortured in torment, <br />Upon an emerald, icy, dewy lawn, <br />Hoping for the sun of noon, <br />When Mother Mary's mantle, softer than the moon, <br />Appeared in the firmament, <br />And released me from my pain and fear. <br />Then she softly smiled at me and said: <br />'Better you suffer many hells here, <br />Than one when you are truly dead! '<br /><br />John Lars Zwerenz<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/purgatory-22/
