Trespassing Walls

stones are all that's left, calloused and sweat piled pride -labors of life and death, foundations of shelter and boundaries of field and farm that disappear into a relentless forest. lost cemeteries hide there -tears and prayers haunt, long dried and silent yet lingering somewhere near; while...the walls tilt and tumble begging to go where they once were interred. the scribbled gray markers of the long fallen - crumble, now more a home to moss than memories. forest and stone and creature, in the end, all to dust, a bed to birth each once again...