[ Trigger warning ]

(I)

Translucent light breathes life into the worn,

faceless statues of praying children

and wicked angels,

this is a place of burial memories,

from the dear ones to dark haunted secrets,

In the world, it's still a park of strolling in the raven hours.

      Mistakenly a lazy vapour of mellow sparrows.

(II)

In the moonlight, the crooked headstones stood proud,

keeping to their duty even as time wore away the messages they bore.

I love having a walk here at midnight,

turbulent of chirping birds, soothe my mind

artificial seeds of artistic nature, look around—

every creation of the creator is unique, lost in the unknown void.

      Shadows of meadows avail in the dark.

(III)

Deep down, deeply lost— these tombstone

bearing umbra of past,

like a pale crescent moon shone like a silvery claw in the night sky,

I look up at the blanket of stars that stretched to infinity.

luring of calling, I'm getting ready to evolve

as in cajoling old grandma and uncles to come on the verandah.

       Birds, sparrows forget their paving—old stones, old stories.

(IV)

I tiptoe through the death park again,

for my beloved, we're bound to be here

if we're supposed to be together for a lifetime,

one of us, has to be in this graveyard right?

the moment your blood smeared on my face,

I knew, darling —no one can chide us to stay apart.

      I came over to smooth my fissures, as it softened the broken edges.

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