I cannot find it in my heart

To leave this place in which they stay

And to the living world depart

But such as this is a funny thing!

For even though below me, death

The world above is bright and new

And green, and life, and calm, and breath

For a graveyard is a.. wistful place.

You step inside, and solemnity

Takes over, just a little while

Before you grasp the soft beauty

For those beneath you have carried on

To which, where place you cannot tell

But left behind are marks of life

That lived and loved, and laughed, and fell.