Tombstones dot the solemn gray,
Wind wafts faint smells of decay.
Obscurity of darkness falls,
Spirits lament mournful calls.
Crickets creak a lonely tune,
Beneath a sky with elliptical moon.
Runes of stone crumbling rock,
ancestry long ago time has forgot.
The fog creeps like a sleepy slug,
Shrouding graves yet to be dug.
The skeletal trees like a greedy claw,
Staking a claim on Murphy's law.
If something can go wrong, it will.
Repression in the night so still.
They say the only guarantees in life,
Is.....Death comes to end all strife.