She tiptoed
through her dreams, by-passing all the odds,
Looking at
the tombstones, in the graveyard of the Gods,
Listening to
the whisperings, upon their old sighing breath,
Dead Gods revealing
secrets, of her life & coming death.
Each tombstone
told a story, of the wherefores & the why´s,
Of the compassion
of all mankind & the reasons not to lie,
Each step within
the graveyard, was a step away from youth,
Tiptoeing towards
eternity & all those reasons for the truth.
The epitaphs
of reasoning, written upon each & every tomb,
Scribed by
long gone masons, illuminated by ancient moon,
Scripted words
of love & faith, then the goodness of all men,
She heard the
words of poetry, once whispered from the pen.
This old place
that spoke of happiness & the long eternal life,
Of true beauty
of her living, within all its struggles & its strife,
As she tiptoed
through this place, still chancing all the odds,
Now knowing
all was well, within the graveyard of the Gods.
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