Graveyard Poetry
I followed our ghosts amongst gravestones, Byronic, thinking we knew this old world and all in it, quoting ourselves, and tearing out pages — Oh life! Oh death! Oh lover! Oh love! I followed our echoes rebounding off ruins, I followed the dust of our footprints through ages, I followed the scent of the ink on the pages, the chapters we threw to the wind. Oh love! Oh death! But oh love first and foremost. Its you I adore most ends up in shreds and even the best meant sentiment tires my love, lover. My beautiful death.