Strolling all alone...across the ancient cemetery...- tell me, isn't everthing here...of a timeless green?! I see that several visitors are also agthered here, having an idle, little saunter on the old graveyard...just like me.
i keep a chandle burning for myself so i won't feel all alone; we should have done so, but we never celebrated anythin here at all.
A leaden weariness creeps viscously like syrup down the hills, felling everybody...as it crawls upon the monuments...- only i escape its power, for the moment seem immune; yet, two eldery ladies, guarding the right, the future tomb are scolding me, so filled with anger, filled with envy and disdain: "The dead are furios with you! as you're wasting your precios time!"
Now there are faces in the carpet, there are people living in the walls; I hear the dead are calling: "sadness lies in wait in the hours before dawn!"
These moments, fleeting as they are, they testify to us they are the silent witnesses of a reason about to pass; I cannot but admit, carelessly ignoring life's finiteness, that i am filled with fear and worry...and so much shame because of this.
Well, everthing I see, yeas all the iomages are blurred, it's hard to guess the future in the short-sighted world. How should this simple handicap be lightly well ignored, considering the dreadful blindness with wich i have been born.
We should have done so, but we never celebrated anything here at all; I hear the dead are calling: "sadness lies in wait in the darkest hours... ...right before the dawn!"