The Death of Grace (Forgiveness Lost)

Bright and beautiful, elegant and eloquent, born of civilized times 
Far removed from brash pioneers whose roughness came from necessity

Grace was the best of us, sincere and serene, unquestionable etiquette
Everyone who knew her loved her; she was cherished above all

She showed that the world could be a finer place for us
Tried hard to enlighten, even amidst the darkest clouds

But her blossom faded, as blossoms do, though constant in her cause
And those who courted her grew weary of waiting for something more

That was more than Grace could give; loving so much and so many
Compelled to help all who cried out in vain or stretched out a hand

Her goodness was her undoing, spread too thin amongst the needy
Never turned away, never a deaf ear, never without compassion

Some would not, could not wait, for Grace’s tender mercy
And so they left her far behind to seek other absolutions

Grace did her best and kept her smile, her spirit true but waning
Less adored and less needed than before, but still she carried on

Her struggle soon took its toll and Grace died in her sleep
Too weary to bring back those lost souls, unable to fix the world

Those who’ve forgotten good Grace are less by their forgetting
Ever true and noble, she left behind a void yet to be filled