The dark and dead of night,
Behind tall, black gates that shed no light.
A once in a full moon hanging in the sky,
Leading the way where underlie,
Bodies thought to be dead, but are more alive,
Living all around you, as strangers in disguise.

And walking through the cemetery, over crackling, fallen leaves,
Past peaceful, resting strangers, labeled as just another one that grieves.
Seeing headstones shimmer names of the dead,
While dew covered grass hide where tears have shed,
Over bodies that no longer lie underneath,
But haunt us in the comfort of home and in our sleep,
And they’re watching you stand at their gave; watching you weep.