Tis'odd how in a semetary,one can be surronded by people,and yet feel like one is being penned in,put through the hoops,made to feel un-welcome,I seek solace from all around me,by sitting quitely,calmy and deep reverie,in an old overgrown,dare I say it cliche' ov a semetary not five minutes walk from where my haus is,when I think that this a sign ov our civilisation,that we inter our dead,in holes in the ground,and then forget them,and allow their final earthly marker to become invisible through the the act ov nature,strikes me as being slightly poetic,'MY' semetary is indeed a beautiful place,for all it's wild chaotik glory,tis' a pity,that i alone,sit in sweet silence,wishing for some one else to appreciate it's splendour with me.
I saw a grave stone that still had legible writing upon it,said the following:
A bitter cup,a shock,
Go now sweet child,
Join a heavenly flock,
A soul so mild.
It makes you think about what we each shall leave behind?