It could have been Heaven--
That stolen moment,
Snatched from the vaults
Of Chronos,
Offered such intractable bliss.
Someone,
Memory does not serve just who,
Said something wrong--
Words that were as sharp
As Hephaestus' blades,
Cutting into the heart and the soul,
Leaving only sweet agony.
Now it seems like
It could have been Heaven.
It was, instead,
A finger of Hell.
Please, with the prayers
Of the repentant,
Of the remorseful,
Of the dying,
Let that moment
Be stolen once more
From the vaults of Time,
So that all can be healed,
And that Heaven
Can be found.