For whom it tolls I do not know

The bell tolls
it seems far away
sombre and slow
for whom it tolls I do not know

I hear the whispers of tortured souls
drifting upon a cold wind
birds flying in ever declining circles
their mournful cries
sounding out into the emptiness
echoing gently back to me

The once staccato beat
fading away into the distance
my heart keeps time with the constant bell
now sounding out in long softened notes

Mists drift across the surface of the still lake
shadows pass over me
swirling ghostly and silent
and I feel them
like a whisper upon my skin
or cold wind across the surface of my grave

The birds now murmuring in muted tones
as they carry me away
their wings beating in time to the gentle song
of my now fallen heart

The bell tolls once more
it no longer seems
so far away
sombre and slow
for whom it tolls
I now know

© Ann Bagnall