How careful is the craft of conscience?
Which wields the sword of sorry,
That strikes the heels of discord,
And visits the home of the elusive.
Healing the rifts of former days
Respect is now paid,
As healing is sought
And time is bought.
Now, a conscience at ease
Grudges now cease.
Loose ends will now meet,
As we bend our knees
With the tears that we cry
In the hour of the last goodbye.

©Sharon Morgan