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Stone sculpted poetry and roses from the funeral
A memorial to death, words of admiration
The dance of leaves in early autumn haze
As with the constant wind comes the grief

Colors won't describe nor will they provide
With flavour, nothing but grey leaving a bitter scent

No release, enslaved by the past, see the sun go down
for the last time before darkness master my rest

Here; the caskets where spirits as captives lie
Holy ashes to be dust before materialized
Darkly veiled the heart to be forgotten
Knowing death would bring enlightenment

Souls it wants to ‘rid, souls unpure; birthed from bitter roots

Outside the prisoners bound to hear
the wind whirling ‘round
Their presence immortally screaming
even after their death

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