Echoes in the Mist
The tombstones in the old churchyard
Stood as sentinels to the past
But eternity is not theirs to guard
To time itself their memory is cast
As the morning wraps itself in a mist
A raven perches on a sentinel
Its caws echoing in the midst
To the toll of a distant bell
As rain begins to fall
The distant bell continues to toll
Those guardians still stand tall
As if to watch over the departed souls
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