The silence of the graves,
Away from the busy roads,
Luring every soul to death,
The reflections of a life time.

Across the crimson fields of life.
Along the vale of death and silence,
Past the streams of life and zest,
Slowly to an eternal sleep.

Hoary dream in a dale deserted,
Lay the sun its gleams forsaken.
The noble race, accomplished lust,
Sang the life, its lovely lull.

Longing to be as a star in the sky,
The brightest of the brightest,
Decorating the celestium,
Emanating beauty and blithe.

The fragrance of dying memories,
Awakening from the living dreams.
Hopes always in hamlet sleep,
Never stirred, never disturbed.

The solitary birds nest,
Woven in peace and tranquility,
Undisturbed by the ethereal aura,
And the Muse of silence reigning.