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We're walking, arms linked, the sun is down and the moon is lighting the way.
It's so bright tonight, as we weave through trees, cobblestone pathways and stone angels decorate the field. It's quiet, so eerily silent, but I'd prefer it that way.
We gaze upon the names scrawled across the slabs coming from the earth. The pictures engraved, give glimpses of lives lived before.
I wonder if they know?
Do they know they're dead? Or do they think they're still sat on their mothers lap, watching as she sews up the hole they've made in their tights?
I wish I could have seen them. Spoke to them.
Yet they're gone, and we're still here.
Arms linked walking through the graveyard.
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YOU ARE READING
~ HUMAN INTROSPECTION ~
Poetry~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~ A collection of poetry and philosophical questions made to question the relations and views we have of ourselves and others. I encourage readers to explore themselves and allow their thoughts to run unfiltered while reading. I hope...
