And though I walk where others lie,
I cannot find it in my heart
To leave this place in which they stay
And to the living world depart
But such as this is a funny thing!
For even though below me, death
The world above is bright and new
And green, and life, and calm, and breath
For a graveyard is a.. wistful place.
You step inside, and solemnity
Takes over, just a little while
Before you grasp the soft beauty
For those beneath you have carried on
To which, where place you cannot tell
But left behind are marks of life
That lived and loved, and laughed, and fell.