Brief overview of application
Hector Velez: @coffeepub
Hunter Trammell: @huntertrammell
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Cold winter night - bright stars like teeth Shed light on churchyard underneath. Graves like eyes, covered with snow, Shine under the moon’s gray glow.
Commentary of how we interpreted this stanza
The church’s path is empty, clear; That does not mean no soul is near. The graves within hide secrets deep: Not all spirits in them sleep.
Way down below, in forlorn Hell, Lost spirits, suffering, do dwell. Hell’s river runs deep and wide, Drowning spirits in its tide.
Such spirits wade through waters black, Struggling for salvation back. They do not find what they so seek - Only boiling rivers bleak.
What lies beyond the river’s shores? From where do these souls come in scores? The river keeps its history, Its misery, its mystery;
Meanwhile, its poor spirits groan, Doomed to wander Hell alone. They are trapped, ever condemned To wander waters with no end.
Up above, the churchyard sleeps As moonlight over shadows creeps. Some graves within rest full, rest well; Others’ souls, still stuck in Hell.
When morning sheds its cleansing light, Banishing the gloom of night, Down below, souls will still roam, Searching for salvation - home.