Solemn and
silent, you stand in still shadows,
In deep
permanent prayer, within holy hallows,
A whisper of
rose upon your cold alabaster face,
Garbed in
cyan sky and old sepia mantilla of lace.
Madonna of all
women and a thousand old tears,
On plinth in a
corner, you´ve stood for many years,
Beside glassed
window, mullioned and blood-stained,
Rainbow prisms
dance upon your brow sadly pained.
Watching from
your dais, the faithful on their knees,
Asking for succour
from Satan´s tight and evil squeeze,
Your pallid distant
smile, silent, wise and all knowing,
Miracles upon
the faithful, from God above bestowing.
As the angels
on high, carry away choral voices in song,
Drifting through
your window, sins and all that´s wrong,
When all is forgiven and the strong replaces the
weak,
A single stained-glass tear runs down your marbled
cheek.
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