Beware the graveyard, the jealous dead.
Their sad short lives, their love unsaid.
Do they scream at Lucifer,
The daemons ripping at their non-existent flesh?
Or do they fly with angels,
Finally found the God who loves them best?

Or perhaps they still linger,
Their eyes seeing, not able to move a finger.
Do they beg for forgiveness,
or their Savior hate?

Either way, it matters not.
Travel the path, and place the flowers in the pot,
Don’t forget to leave the tears.
And forever mark in your mind, the spot of a friend.
And as you walk back, down that well-trodden path,
And don’t forget to take my hand, as we travel back,
Around the unexpected bends.

Someday we shall be buried there,
But for now, enjoy the life I share with you.
And forever pity the jealous dead.
But forget not the happy dead, true in the next life,
As I am now to you.