Overseer

[O.P.A.L]

One that sits
He watches and waits
For the bells to awaken with a sound
For the bells to sway side to side
For the watcher needs a call
To stand and take the rope
To tend to that church
As It sits old and decrepit
For its caretaker to came back
But with this final strum
That last sound until silence
Our clouds that once danced
White with the colour of an opal
Swirled in the suns light
Until that strum faded
Then the light went red
And we all cried
For the bell makes its sound
We will all see the true colour
Of our O.P.A.L