'Returned unopened,'
They'd writ it on her grave,
A script from those she'd tried to save.
Poor woman, held in such regard
Was nonetheless so cold and hard
She never took a soul to love
Nor shared her heart, or part thereof.
’twas not an unkind sentiment,
The words were grave and truly meant.
She'd served the church and died alone
A well respected lost, old crone.
For praying that her Lord approved
She'd had her joyfulness removed
And so, they thought, he ought to know
To just what lengths she'd had to go
To earn his love, within his church
(For that was how she'd measured worth)
A virgin, pure in soul was she
Alone 'til she was ninety three
And now returned to whence she came
'Returned unopened'
Was written on her grave.
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