Cemetery
“The cold stones of cemetery inscribe
in emptiness the petrified story long forgotten”
– By Poet
The grey sky was gloomy
as that of my morose mind,
as I pushed open the rusted gate,
entered the sprawling cemetery.
I stood still in front of the grey stones
in rows, some large, some small,
in columns, some erect, some reclined,
each silently telling me a story forgotten.
I prayed for eternal peace for the souls gone,
for the lives petrified in the emptiness.
I stood in a vacant plot waiting,
wished someone would pray for me someday.
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2025
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