I scream in a whisper, longing to be cradled in the arms of my dead, I yearn to touch and see there faces, and how much the Earth has changed them. I greedily want to take there hands and pull them from there tombs.
The exticy of embracing the marble angels, begging to know there secrets, for them to teach me the songs they use to lul the dead they guard.
The wings enfold me, promises of a sleep free from nightmares tempts me to stay forever...
What if forever? Is it till the skin rots away? The bones turn to dust? The soul goes where ever it is the soul goes? Or, is it when the soul it self if forgotten?
...And how long before I find out?
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"It is the way we live that is testament to our spirits, and perhaps the way we die. But by earth, fire, or even the sea, the way of our burial matters not, for our souls live on in the hearts of others, for a little while."
ReplyDelete(I may have misquoted slightly...if so, I'll fix it later...)