A large tilted tree
Over a neglected grave.
Little lonely flowers
Litter most tombs.

Mossy and misshapen,
Some stones are forgotten.
A manicured grave,
From people that care.
Some overgrown grass,
And the musty air.

Each holding a life full of memories
That no one remembers.
Hundreds to thousands
Of isolated souls.
Hundreds to thousands
Of lives now empty.
And a slab of stone,
Of all that’s left.

Morbid but peaceful,
The chirps are the music,
Singing along for the dead.

Lives once lived,
Now lives are lost.
A place of the dead,
Yet teeming with life.
Tied down by a legacy,
Somber and silent
The graves line the hills.
The trees offer shade
To those that can grieve.

A resting place well deserved,
And family together are found,
With empty spaces reserved,
Ancestors are knowingly proud.

Gone from this world,
But not gone from our hearts.
Every death is a new start.
Death’s kind embrace
Has sweetly lured
The hundreds of dead,
Now to a new world.

More losses to face,
Loved and adored,
A casket adorned,
Now buried but breathing,
In other’s hearts.