Dead space

A stroll among the stillness, leaves crunching beneath my sole. Dead silence all around me, neatly resting in a row. 

A memento for the living, unwilling to let go. A love once had, now buried deep below. 

Ground shivers with delight, preparing for man's final embrace, while the crow finds his place in this still, dead space.

A lifetime reduced to a date and a name; just words on a stone, they all look the same. 

We fear this tale, a journey unknown, to go to a place our mind’s never flown. So we clutch our clocks, as if to slow their hands. Grasping, clawing desperately at these fleeting sands. 

Yet here among the graves, the truth takes hold— in death’s quiet shadow, to live feels bold. But the earth is accepting, silent and serene. No ticking clocks, no tasks undone, no more sights to be seen.

For what is death but a closing door, a remembrance of what lies before?

The stillness hums, the crow takes flight— an empty grave that’s full of light.

To die before we die is the secret untold. Our hearts break free, a soul unsold.

Death is not a foe, but a shadowed friend, whispering promises of freedom, where earthly bonds end.

A grave is not a prison; it’s a key—

Accept your end, and you are free.