Black Gold

A tragic morning in a coal mine.

It was a cold,
November morning. 
Oh, you could hear
the snap in the air.
The thunder came
without a warning, 
and trapped us all
in deep despair. 

Our lungs were filled 
with coal dust and powder. 
Soon there was 
no light to see.
We must have prayed
for several hours,
before we realized
our destiny. 

Our bodies are trapped 
in this here mountain. 
These caved in walls
have become our grave.
Our blessings are few,
but we still count them; 
for only the faithful
does Jesus save. 

We heard their voices
Yeah, they were crying;
screaming our names
through the earth and stone. 
Oh, we were alive,
but we were dying. 
Jesus was calling
our spirits home.

Reviews

[Stephen]

We heard their voices
Yeah, they were crying;
screaming our names
through the earth and stone.
Oh, we were alive,
but we were dying.
Jesus was calling
our spirits home....

...

I love this one phrase. It's extremely beautifully written. You know what? I just love the beats of yours ..I meant, the beats of your words .. lol what a coolion rhyme you hold and keep continue the words with the flow .. I like that...I adore this poem.