Talking to the Purgatory Soul
W A hearty evening, the darkness of the cemetery,
In my mind, I stand, only the heart trembles silently.
Suddenly, the whisper barely reaches,
Like from another world, someone's talking to me.
I turn around and I don't see anyone,
Only the shadow of the tomb is hidden in the greyberry.
But in thought I hear a voice silent and sad,
'Help me, please, make my suffering less.'
'Who are you?'
'Soul purgatory and longing for God.
In my earthly life, I made mistakes,
Now he repents, alone in misery. '
'How can I aid you?'
'Prayer honest, and sacrifice and regret.
Every 'Hail Mary' is simply a sign of light,
Which brightens my path, goes up. '
I hear sighing, deep gratitude,
'Thank you, brother, for your love and concern.
Remember others, in the purgatory of the suffering,
May your prayer bring them relief. '
I begin prayer, honestly and with faith,
I feel relief in my soul, quiet comfort.
A voice is gone, but I know he's heard,
That aid came in this purgatory land.
I leave the cemetery, in the heart of my mind,
The fragileness of life and the strength of prayer.
I know the conversation, though short and silent,
She changed my life, she made a better one.
