Brown petals over the white mort cloth. Souls come no more to smell the graves, kneel and cry. A sexton sitting there, idle, whose mother is buried somewhere here under the brown old leaves. Falls pass and his tears dry over the winters.

I saw a veiled widow yesterday, walking through the corpse road, distant, but the veil was beautiful. She buried a ring, I saw it, it shone, maybe diamond I can't differentiate, but there is sorrow. I saw her praying, sitting quietly for hours until she left – soul of a soldier that got lost in the war.

Someone left roses on that grave, and the red faded away. The tombstone, untitled, a woman, who lost herself in a quest for peace. I saw the face when her remains were brought here, a smile as beautiful as the inscriptions on her tombstone. I saw that someone; a lost smile. He was a fool, a lover who fell in love knowing the consequence but this is the beauty of life, a sacrifice.

A teen, young, who fell in love with her, loves an incurable disease. He fell for an unknown beauty without knowing her name. A fool captivated in her beauty, but the scar after losing her, it's quite deep. Depth of an ocean and the ocean was his love and she was the blue. A fusion they were like the northern lights. I chased them for years but fortune brought me here and...

A breath never smiled here, a smile never died here and a dead never saw the constellations so clear.

– my epitaph says  

This is my poetry, bringing reminiscence of the hidden memories of souls beside me. I hear the echoes every day and relate to them, fall in love every day with someone else's love and die every day with a hope that someday, again, maybe you would come to visit this cemetery. No screams, just whispers, sorrows and relief, love, and it will make you melancholy. Walk past this graveyard someday, and see through my eyes, silence with words breathing and wind with tears bleeding right under you.