The angels cried their silent song, up through the cemetery trees,
a lament forever unanswered, as it was unheard.
The headstones loomed as sentinels,
jealously guarding the secrets, which their masters took to their graves.
Momentarily I wondered if perhaps those lying beneath had found peace,
the peace which one day all of us would eventually seek.
Perhaps in death fate would grant us the lasting content which we are denied in life.
Their tombstones lay draped in longing inscriptions,
of hopes of somehow escaping their misfortune.
Expressions of heaven a glistening gold, peace and love, happiness and mercy.
But they had found the truth, at the moment it had found them,
bitterly, unceasingly, it would haunt them in death as it did me in life.
A land cursed with death, and no camouflage could hide this truth.
No wishful verse, no empty promise, no heaven high.
A god of flesh lay all but hidden, in this defeated land.
A fate to silence the hopes of religion,
in the dark hours of the night, and in the cold recesses of the dying light.
Outside time and space, a killer without a face...
Yet, my journey beckoned me, as the winds of destiny blew my hair.
I searched the sun-laden day, and found a cold rainy night.
I sought out life, and found a moldering grave.
I dreamt of love, and was awakened by hate.
I walked a road of truth, and found it paved in lies.
I hoped for tomorrow, and beheld the ashes of yesterday...