feather's and crowns

flowers in a graveyard

home sweet home

Where they were meant to be all this while,

Escaping narrowly, their demise; an anticlimax.

But then again, only the angels know,

What a pity or what a blessing.

So many different paths,

Unknown souls,

Indirectly interlaced lives;

One as family, brothers and sisters,

One home.

Cold concrete, sometimes grounded silt, even stoic marble;

Last ranking in life, its

home sweet home

Disintegrating ash, clay, sod, now one with the earth, finally giving back.

Replenished soil,

Yet, flowers in the graveyards, insist on eluding my eyes.