There spirits tethered to this plain,
Some were wondering
Some were prisoners
There seven by three foot
An invisible cage,
Locked,
Barred,
Insanity
Had gripped those that were of
Weak spirit, an ill cloud filled these places,
Not seen by mortal eyes
Felt,
Chilled,
Ominous,
Feelings of those flesh bound
Ever motioned towards,
Breath cold absorbing the positive
Energies around,
Those of stronger fibre, of sound spirit,
They were the whispers heard,
That breeze when non around.
They watched all who entered,
Stood atop there stones
Sat upon the cold granite
At those who visited them,
Thank you as a ,
Fragrant smell,
Spoken verse,
Touch breezed
Upon a reminder of those there moment
Acknowledged, a peace has been found,
The Graveyard is of the dead,
Some saved
Others degraded,
Some lost, never to be found.
But they
Whisper,
Sigh,
Confide
In each other, but we will never
Understand there murmurings,
Till we are also departed,
And our bodies grace the ground next to each other.