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A-walking through the foggy wood I found a Roman urn It marks what seems a noble grave but its fate took a turn It lacks a name or token word to tell just who lies there It blankly stares right back at me without the slightest care The puzzling urn says naught to me I sit in somber peace and then the answer falls in place: it’s a grave for all deceased For all the nameless of the past the memorial stands here The grandest grave that ever was Unsung now sung I hear
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Oct 17, 2024
Oct 17, 2024 at 5:25 PM UTC
The urn
A-walking through the foggy wood I found a Roman urn It marks what seems a noble grave but its fate took a turn It lacks a name or token word to tell just who lies there It blankly stares right back at me without the slightest care The puzzling urn says naught to me I sit in somber peace and then the answer falls in place: it’s a grave for all deceased For all the nameless of the past the memorial stands here The grandest grave that ever was Unsung now sung I hear
Inspired by an unmarked grave topped by a Roman urn, seen in the forested overgrown Southwest Cemetery of Stahnsdorf near Berlin
Written by
53/M/Potsdam, Germany
Oct 17, 2024
Oct 17, 2024 at 5:25 PM UTC
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