Here it is, the old church is quiet and deserted
Window openings frighten their blackness,
Dark and damp, and next to each other is not visible.
Please give me your hand and wait silently.
The threshold is hidden under a cover of stone and dust -
Apparently, she did not wait for sinners anymore.
The candles in the lamps of the streetie are already cold,
And they dropped the golden crosses of the dome.
Your great-grandmother married here sometime,
Subtle dress touched these same plates.
Everything in this church is still sacred,
Let the altar in it, and the choir is broken for years.
The bell is ringing now no one will be alarmed
Birds will not scare away from the bell tower at the hour of prayer.
Time here and not for a moment can not -
So our story is leaving us ....jpg)
That building looks awesome and I'd love to explore it. Depending on how you define God.
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