This graveyard
Nowadays a park
Green city space
Stout stone walls
Built to protect the dead
From the living
High walls
No view
In or out
No horizon
Buildings all around
Paths made from gravestones
Laid side by side
End to end
A sordid caricature
Of human forms
Their names gradually wearing day by day
Heading for oblivion
As sure as the bones
Beneath this ground
One day they will be gone
My tranquil oasis
Today a swirling cauldron
Wind, rain, leaves
The dead pressing against the floor
The living pressing against the walls
Magpie stares
Crow crows
Rat scurries
Squirrel scampers
All struggling in the wind
The only living creatures within
These dark strong walls
The branch above me bends
Twists, contorted in the wind
I will the bough to break
To crash down to the ground
And break this stone
Above my head
To free me
From this hell
