We do not cry...

We are gathered here today,
Hand in hands and arms by sides.
All dress in black and crying skies.
Can you guess how old one is to die? 

I can't see beyond what lies here,
Whispers I hear of life, truth, and mercy.
How the ones who lay before us lead their lives,
Full and rich.

Yet in my eyes, I only bear tears.
As a child I stand here, heart wrenched and turned.
A look straight up to see the figures towering above,
I turn to the rose covered slab.
It darkens my eyes.

It's cold, it's hard, it's industrial and it's commercial.
There's no life in these woods,
Only fading memories and echoes of the stories,
Told to eager listening ears.

How old does one have to be to stand here? 
4?... 5?...
I knew the price to pay,
I knew the cost to be in front of the rows behind.
The price on your head is simple,
You must hold more treasures, more stories,
With the one that lies beneath.

I know you very little, but it's black and white. 
Your gone, I'm alone and my heart is heavy.
I returned the rain from face to ground,
And yet whispers echo around me.

What are you doing girl?
We do not cry.
We stand tall and with pride.
The figures eyes fall on me like rain on rock.
How can we not bear this truth?
Because we share a bond, we stand in circles.

We love though the links we share.
One can not die, one lives through life.
Life is lived and you are alive.
Shadows of you are but shards in my heart,
But I know the truth.

I know your story and we do not cry,
For you are always alive,
In me...