That Place

Like a stillborn child they slept; Their good and evils they couldn't do again. In a place quiet, dark and lonely, Where even prisoners are as free as kings. Many hopeless people desire to go there and live; Those who are grieved; who seek death. The rich, the poor, the famous, the wretched; Those who prefer the grave to any treasure. They desire to go there; A place with a mouth that never closes; Always open to recieve; Always expanding to accomodate- The vast populace trooping in. How I hate to go there, The tombs stones and engravings; Oh! what a terrible sight! Always, I pray earnestly, Not to travel that to land.