Deep within an ageless forest
Where light and sound doth fade,
The passage of time seems to stem
To those who tread this glade.
Within this dell between time’s weeds,
Covered by countless years
Four faded gravestones catch the eye
A sight that one reveres.
Beneath a tree with sprawling roots
A tall white marker stands—
Enshrouded in a veil of moss,
Reflecting a life once grand.
Another stone stands tall within
The regal marker’s wake.
The only words that do remain:
“The Lord my soul doth take.”
Yonder within the shaded grove,
Two smaller stones still lie—
Akin in size, shape and shade
The two sit side by side.
One little stone is chipped and cracked,
A victim of the years.
The other fares little better,
Erased by heaven’s tears.
Four lonely graves within the grove,
Abandoned to the past.
Bygone memories, cherished lives—
Forgotten oh so fast.
Our lives are but a moment now
On this temporal sphere.
Seasons pass and memories fade
Relics of yesteryear.
These four stones will surely crumble
As time and years pass by.
But these four lives will surely wake
With the final trumpet’s cry.
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