I awoke covered in autumn leaves under a dying tree.
A dead cold breeze flees & returns through out me.
As if I had holes in my body & the wind doesn't acknowledge me.
Melancholy fog shelters this cemetery
While I lay here, my face against the graveyard grass.
My head tilted to the right, staring at written dates on tombstones without engraved epitaphs.
There lays the buried graves of my past selfs