I walk down my garden path of darkness, through the stones with names covered with moss and earth.The darkness covers me, protects me, shields me from any; and all human presence.I ponder of the days, weeks and years gone by, and still I try to understand why I still hide in the shadows of this life I call my own.I look up to see stars blinking back at me, like a watcher.I arrive home, my home still after 100 years.I enter through the iron gate just to see the gleaming full moon burst forth from the dark dreary rain clouds.Down stone stairs passed a stone table to the back wall.I wonder as I slide down the cold stone wall and hit the damp stone floor. " What will become of me?"ac/11/14/09