Our graveyard;
It beckons,
It bellows.
The crows call.
The raindrops crawl down our coffins.
But I believe in you and me.
Our funeral is a mockery.
They’ll pick up the debris
Of our bones.
But little do they know,
Our devotion is feisty.
Our love is indelible; undying.
So I’ll ask politely.
While you’re clenching cloth napkins
And sighing in strife,
Ready your eyes
For a death
That can come back to life.
May 30, 2024
May 30, 2024 at 1:42 PM UTC
Our graveyard;
It beckons,
It bellows.
The crows call.
The raindrops crawl down our coffins.
But I believe in you and me.
Our funeral is a mockery.
They’ll pick up the debris
Of our bones.
But little do they know,
Our devotion is feisty.
Our love is indelible; undying.
So I’ll ask politely.
While you’re clenching cloth napkins
And sighing in strife,
Ready your eyes
For a death
That can come back to life.
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