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.
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Author:
David Wakeling (
Offline) - Published: March 11th, 2026 05:08
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments1
Moving and most romantic in the purist way this poem Eulogizes a lost angel in form of flesh. So nicely written in good poetic form. I am lost as to the actual personage if there is such but it speaks to the heart and is a fave
Thank you.She was real.Sandra Hoare was working as a Night Nurse at the Old peoples hospital in Walget 1996.She was dragged outside and murdered by two aborigines. Very little has been in the press because it would sound racist.She was a beautiful soul and i believe she has risen above thsi.I thank you for you kind words
You are most welcome David and thank you for filling me in on the situation that I was ignorant of.
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