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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Fatal graveyard friendship On the last day of my human life, I was sitting on a tomb in a cemetery, in an incredible garden of death (In an outer district of the city.) Just sitting, nothing special. Meditation, contemplation, thinking about death and life’s matters, and God It was a beautiful day in September, windy atmosphere, the rain just gone, and the light of the sun sometimes winks through the leaves of trees Everything is wet, this cemetery is so green and shines silvery, the ivy overgrown and weaved through everything Silent solitude, amazing feeling between death and life, oh, that's why I love this thousand years old monumental graveyard Just sitting on a tomb. Nice light brown marble building. So stable, and timeless, two people sleep here in the deep endless life Joseph and Erma died on the same day in 1943. It was the time of World War II. On the same day? Hm, they died together. But how? Someone knocks, the marble cover of the tomb moves under me, and someone shouts in exasperation, a man's voice ‘Hey! Man! Go away from our tomb! It’s not yours! Do not sit here! Go! We want to come out from the deep! Go! Go!!’ I stood up in full terror. The marble cover of the tomb moved off. Oh my God! A man came out! Tall and so strong! A beautiful lady followed him from the depths. Oh my God! It's much better than all of the present top actors and models! We talked and became friends. We walked into the cemetery. Conversations about life and death. About past and present life. Joseph and Erma invited me to their home into the deep. Amazing home under the ground of the graveyard. Amazing, mystically demonic Amazing home, living hall, rooms, a little church, library room, wine cellar, park, garden, dream home, afterlife living life actively on Fantastic dinner, party, wine tasting, whiskies, and hellish drugs. Oh, I became unconscious, dreams, visions, magical lands. I have forgotten my life. I woke up. I can’t get air. I realized. I am in a tomb. I sleep with two skeletons. My mind is active. I want to get out of here. It is not possible. ‘You are dead! We stole your life!’ Joseph and Erma sang it. They are sitting and drinking on my tomb.
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