Staring at the Stone

She sits alone,

Staring at the stone.

The name engraved,

The flowers around.

20 years to live,

went by too fast.

her memories,

forever will last.

A white mist,

sitting alone.

Staring at,

the old grave stone.

Slowly other,

figures form.

Only they,

come to mourn.

The time they waited,

forever will haunt.

Their souls will wanter,

forver in want.

Want of a life,

not to taint.

As if to cover,

with a paint.

hiding the fears,

forever more.

never again,

knock on that door.

They will wish for a life,

free of strife.

Wishing for no knowledge,

of their past deeds.

ever wishing,

to be freed.

on a grave,

yellow flowers.

in a cave,

hold the powers.

If the flowers,

were to die.

Then the power,

would be gone forever.

The souls would be free,

to roam the land.

And the earth would crumble,

the people turn to sand.

This is the balance,

that must be held.

Or chaos would rule,

and good would be gone.

She sits alone,

Staring at the stone.

The name engraved,

The flowers around.

20 years to live,

went by too fast.

her memories,

forever will last

~10-26-06~