I think I start to remember the ones, I've never even known, like I know their life story, as if I know of pain and glory, pain and glory in which only we can see, is there any truth to believe? in this glistening stone? my aching head begs for me to know. Why... I look at a grave, as if it can help me see a day, a day in which they are alive and ready, moving through their blessed lives, so joyous and steadily, and looking closer at the gray, I know these thoughts will always stay. Why... How did they get here, this place of gloom? Did they know they'd get here oh so soon? Was their plan to be here now? Possibly atop a feather cloud, Or is it not the way it was suppose to be? Does their soul still fly free? Atop some gorgeous unworldly tree? Who and what have they left behind? Away to their world so mysterious and undefined? Why?
Reason for writing:
I have just visited the cemetary to see my dad's brother who passed away.
Birth sign: Cancer
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