The corpse of him
Packaged in a grave that’s slim
Resting his beautiful head
On his black coffins bed
His smile now gone
No more sighs in his yawn
My life now empty and dark
We both live in a land barren and stark
The tombstone bears his name
“He lived life as if it were a game”
I’ll never know why
His life with mine
Ended too soon
He now rests under the moon
And my heart has broken
Holding his portrait as a token
Of his love freely given to me
Needing the kiss I long to breathe
Remembering when he asked me to marry
As I look at his new life in the cemetery

Written by Her
Author's Note
Attended a writing workshop today. The prompt was “cemetary”
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