Our graveyard;
It beckons,
It bellows.
The crows call.
The raindrops crawl down our coffins.

But I believe in you and me.
Our funeral is a mockery.

They’ll pick up the debris
Of our bones.
But little do they know,
Our devotion is feisty.
Our love is indelible; undying.

So I’ll ask politely.

While you’re clenching cloth napkins
And sighing in strife,
Ready your eyes
For a death
That can come back to life.