graveyard

Learn more about other poetry terms

Kashmir A graveyardFor bodiesAnd SoulsSurely countries
A dreary cold and time forgot Winter wonders the sky does dot Silver flakes of falling snow Rings above the ground below The darkened stones worn with time That bear the name that once was mine
Once, in a graveyard full of light Filled with tombs and cement angels like Crowded teeth in a fish’s mouth Stained green by time Laughter and music and love notes
I sit in the parking lot of a.drive in diner. There's a fluorescent light attracting moths and other bugs. I see them flying frantically around, trying to reach the light, darting in and off, too quickly to cause much harm.
In this meadow of Indians, comes a howl from pale winds, one that whispers to the trees, who slump deformed, longing to sway in patches of thin pokes of wild flowers, with nervous dragonflies, 
Softest petals, red as blood, blossoming with hate and love. Lying in a bed of snow that bends and weaves, that blooms and grows.  
As time goes by, You stand and ponder, "When will I die?" So you wonder. As you wander through the graveyard, You ask yourself, "Why is life so hard?" You say to oneself.
Tragically beautiful,
An isolated graveyard only death to keep his guard willow trees rustle and moan grieving for decaying bone spirits hiding in the mist just the souls of the pain-kissed hiding behind name-carved stone
Thousands of tombstones filled my sight Millions more are covered by the night Bodies of humans rot underground As the world continues to spin around
Creepy crawlies trample the pillows Of those who are long lost Some are visited by grieving whispers And others still lay where they were first tossed   Smoky fog rises from the ground
Dry bones, bleached bones, pearly white Shies away from heav’ly light Laughs and scorns the angels flight Dry bones smiling, embrace the night.   Dry bones, burnt bones, glowing red
  There I am. Rain pouring. Dusk is upon the horizon. Standing still, breathing. Just Breathing. I look up at the Marble Statue of Christ.
Innocence wilts, tulips in a graveyard. No hope left to flutter slowly by. Rays of sun can no longer bring her back to life.
Subscribe to graveyard