Thousands upon thousands
yet such a small place
But only one
I wish to find
The wind plays a chorus
that makes the trees dance wildly
as I near his final bed
The gray stone beckons me
I hesitate, but sit in sickeningly sweet silence
and suddenly lashed out
but quickly stop
I say, "Ryan, my brother, I miss you."
I wept mightily and for long
as the blood red and orange raid the sky
The weight lifted off my burdened shoulders
I walked toward the exit, finally set free
Now I have nothing
left to fear
at Resthaven Cemetery
a wonderfully beautiful place.
