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Post by Scraith on Oct 6, 2006 21:29:05 GMT -5
New member here, haven't posted yet. Just wrote this then.. ------------------------------- I enter the church And look around. High wooden beams, Stained glass windows. Rows of pews, altar. Cross.
I look outside, Look at the walls. The heavy wooden door. The clock tower, The bell. A legacy of love, A legacy for the Lord.
And I am not moved.
I enter the crypt And instantly want to turn around again And run back out. I look around instead. Coffins, plaques, Dead priests. It makes me uneasy. I read some of the words. When they lived, When they died. Telling of each person’s life, Their devotion to the church.
And I am not moved. I move on.
Another church. I enter. I gaze at the artwork, Lovingly crafted, Telling the tales of the people in the Book. I study the candles, Lit in front of some sections of wall. I look up to the statues, Michaelangelo's, the Madonna, All the people staring in awe.
And I am moved By the craftsmanship alone.
This is no place for me. I move to the door and leave.
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