Epitaph On the Tombstone

A quest for solace took me to a well-kept garden Where the only trouble is the breeze that blows Touching the hearts of the trees Then the rustling sounds of the leaves The dancing inch grasses And the unrivaled scenery of silence Then i imagined The calmness, orderliness and respect Each was quite; minding his nap In his six-feet long grave Bought with blood But then; the epitaph on their tombstone In ingots of gold Lowered to the edge of their feet Tells who they were A strange expression of lives And when I took a long gape within the confines of my sight I saw the arrangements Soldiers; rank and file Laying in standing order Order of ranks and heights Nobly attired Then it crumb my wits again Gain of such solitary confinement Of fallen martyrs Ruined by the gaffe of the state Dozens deaths; slate On the epitaph; were Names, numbers, dates of birth and dates of death The quote; ‘He gave his life for the Nation’ Took my thoughts farther away Then comes the reward for the death An orchestral band In flattering attire Singing sorrowful songs As we wine and dine It goes on and on Till the lowly arrival of night Knowing that the death felt animate again I hugged and bit farewell to each As they walk nobly back to their graves