The Golden Heart
When God saw you getting tired,
A cure was not meant to be found.
The Angel of Death put its arms around you
And whispered: ‘Come with me!’
With tearful eyes we watched
How you were passing away.
Although we loved you deeply,
We saw you weren’t meant to you stay.
Your golden heart stopped beating
And your hands are now at rest.
Our hearts are nearly breaking,
Yet, we accept it’s for your best.
Therese Williamson
Edited by Aquarius
The above is part of ‘Comfort For The Bereaved’.
If you would like some more support, please follow the link below:
‘Comfort For The Bereaved’