How exquisite the fragrance that fills the air
Of darkened halls of shame and fear.
Among the guilty and profane
A sweet flow'r blooms amidst the pain.
Silently her cries ascend to God
Unheard, unheeded, so it seems.
Yet angels weep and wipe away her tears
Bring hope amid the questions and the fears.
Her crown is woven by her trials
Her tears are captured in God's vial.
Though justice is denied her here
Her cause is not forgotten there.
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