gong sarpedon The low bell tolls eleven times Carrying its thunder throughout the village Ringing and sustaining And it finishes, Leaving only the sounds of cars passing by, And the murmur of voices In the halways and the flats Leading to the lights being dimmed Then silenced, waiting for the sun To tell its somber story in the morning In a few hours, an aura of light Will gently fill the room, But not until all slumber is disturbed When the alarm tones blare and wake Singing and shaking awake. 021118 ... mon uow tibetan 050402 ... Q going going gong 050402 what's it to you? who go blather from