The ones who living come today
To read the stones and go away
Tomorrow dead will come to stay.
A place of disasters,heartbreaks and crime
All gathered there,forgotten in time
Broken fences and snow blanket grave stones
One by one, laid rhythms of statues in rows.
Burials in weather worn words
Lived chilled to the moss in the passage of years
With the roads,cars passing by,
no-one’s been up there
Nobody really cares.
Among the memorials, there I stand digging
In the sands of time,in search of something
Almost six feet under the ground
Lies your skeleton holding mine;the wilderness cracked and browned.
Despite the softness and the silence
Above the solitude and endless white
Our bones ended up next to each other
Because you not touching me is to suffer.
~ Anika
Crescent 