The Bells Echo Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

When time is stilled and stoppered in your heart
An echo heard that might not mean that much
Shall a song to remember be imparted?
It'll ring in your heart of silence a touch.
So tremulous you will shake from within,
Believing something unforeseen
Has taken shape and form within your skin,
And a host of angels shall intervene
They will sing a chorus of an unknown hymn.
Likes of which you'll never hear again
What they've written has no pseudonym.
No nameless place to hide or condemn.
A bell once struck rings pure, its purpose true.
It carries the essence we'll imbue.