The sleeping sky is cloudy
And creates a veil over the lying minds.

Like a festival, the cemetery is alluded And it turns to a hunting ground.

Open Graves and pits - They lived.

Crowd of faces in their shades, To amaze preys.

Reefs and sheets they laid
On the unseen skins of the deceased, commemorating their ways,
In spite of the deaths unperceived.

Decorating - they decorate the undecorated, those lives that cannot be consecrated.

The clock ticks, and time's fastened
In memories imprisoned.

Candles that could not light
Their lives any longer,
Cries that won't see them in tight;
Yet, they restitute their hunger.

They, lying there wishing to smile,
But are thousand miles -
Though sighed at the benevolent pride.

Embrace their newest mild..

© Prince Tardeh