The wind caresses the gravestone,
A silent raven sits alone.
The rustling leaves, they do alarm,
Disturbing the eternal calm.

How many souls in darkness were spent?
Through mystery haze and tears were lent.
How many tears have been shed?
And soaked the dry earth with dread?

Days stretch out,
Nights fly by,
The light seems to burn,
But gloom doesn't die.

Bringing solace to those who die,
Stealing moments from those who stay.
With her grace and her enchanting face,
In the depths of night, she leaves her trace.
© _a.k.e.r.o_