I’m standing in my grave, a somber place,
Where time stands still, in this eternal space.
The echoes of silence whisper in my ear,
As I ponder the purpose of why I’m here.
The earth beneath me, cold and unmoving,
As if nature itself had ceased its grooving.
But still, I find solace in this hallowed ground,
Embracing the quietness that surrounds.
The tombstones, like sentinels, stand in rows,
Markers of lives lived, stories we’ll never know.
Each one a reminder of the fleeting lives,
That once thrived with dreams, hopes, and strives.
There’s a serenity that comes with this repose,
A sense of acceptance, as my spirit grows.
No more worries, no more earthly strife,
Just a calmness that transcends mortal life.
And though my heart may be sad and sore,
In this graveyard, I’ve found something more.
A reminder that life is a fleeting art,
And to treasure each moment, before we depart.
So as I stand here, in this quiet enclave,
I find peace in the stillness of my grave.
For in death, I’ve learned to truly see,
That life’s fragility is what sets us free.