Cemetary - Landscapes

I captured slow life and know it well

Like the back of my broken hands

We accept our solace cloaked

As friendship gripped by time

And modern man

A liar holds a fractured posture

That says it best when nothing at all

Graced in patience and blessed with fear

Scratching at my door

I can feel there’s movement

After fading grey and silence pass

Like a shadow losing contrast

As the night crawls over last

But life is surrounded by flowers in bloom

Slowly dying

Age is cursed and I’m trapped in a dark oak casket

Driven by a hearse

My eyes are filled with the years of regret

I can’t take back