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keeper of the dead
bodey of the land, stone of which are graved by hand
drivers of they hearse, mourners of the deceased
grim, decaying, sorrowfully
the land of the dead
they tell me u are haunted and i belive them, for i have seen your see through bodies siting amongst the stone scaring away the children.
and they tell me you are mournfull and yes it is true i have seen the women and children crying as their tears fall to stone
and they tell me u are wicked and with my reply: i now the grim dances amongst the dead
and having answered so i turn once more to those who moran and accuse at this dreary land, and i give them back the mourning and the accusations and sat to them:
come show me another land with out the peacefulness and gentleness and joyess and quietness
flinging the soil of they earth of piling soil on soil
here is a bold digger set vivid against the cold hard soil
cold as a winter storm with their nipping at thoughs who trespass and cold hearted to protect the sacred land at night
stoking
shoveling
cripid
plotting
watching, crying, waiting
under the night sky, shovel in their hand, laughing with a crooked smile
under terrible burden of destiny
laughing as a young man laughs,
laughing even as a morbid person laughs who had never been afraid
bragging and laughing that under their wrist is the pulse, and under their ribs the heart that still beats when so many don't
laughing!!
laughing the stormy, husky, twisted laugh of the deseast,
well dressed, sweating proud to be grave digger, hearse driver, grave stone carver, prayer of the dead and priest of the family