The Stone Was Rolled. Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The stone was rolled, a heavy, final sound,
And darkness held Him, buried in the ground.
We saw the grief, the tear-stained, heavy sighs,
But what occurred behind those closed-off skies?

No earthly eye could pierce the silent deep,
Where death's cold grip held all the world asleep.
But whispers rose, from pages old and true,
Of journeys made, in realms unseen by you.

He went below, where shadows held their sway,
Not bound by chains, but came to light the way.
To those held captive, by the ancient night,
He brought the news, of freedom and of light.

The grave's dark door, it trembled at His name,
His love's decree, extinguished death's cold flame.
No more the end, where all hope seemed to cease,
But passage granted, to unending peace.