Sandra

This world will always live with pain,

The Sun is now a little colder,

God will always hide his face in shame,

The frozen men will always laugh,

And forever God will be less than God.

Within her gentle smile and her trusting heart,

Was all the hope that this dark world could make,

A tender candle flame is put out.

A caged spirit is free.

The clashing dark clouds of grief are nothing,

For there is Joy knowing,

That this gentle child,

This Angel,

Has risen above this nothingness.

Perhaps in some far distant time,

When men hear Sandra's story,

And look into their souls,

Perhaps they will shed a tear

For the passing of tenderness,

And the death of beauty.