I was standing in front of your grave with a head held high and yet a heart full of sorrow. I could taste the bitterness of the cold-hearted grave yard. What did I expect? I was walking amongst the dead as did the twisted tree's roots. I looked towards the sky. The dark grey clouds swifting pass this cruel world. Then to my left to my right. The trees looked lifeless with their dead leaves falling on the autumn ground and soon to be swept away with the wind. And then… The stone stuck into the ground. I just stood there with my shadow. I was holding a red rose which faded to black as the Earth began to grow darker, colder. I started to grip it more and more until it fell to the ground. I stared at the petals as they started to fall off the fragile stem. They curled up to keep warm from the harsh, frosty wind and Earth. I was still standing there, now crying tears of blood they were that trickled down my cheek and hitting the soil where the dead grass had once lived. Nothing grew there as it was the place of death, even the people who visit there are already dead. I still couldn't understand why I was there. Two years later. It took two years to go there and pain was still there, still is. What was I even doing there in the first place? My mind was a clouded storm brewing inside of me. I wanted to leave, to never set forth in that place never again. Again to remind myself that you were already dead. I turned around with the sight of the trees staring at me and with the clouds rumbling in rage. I didn't care. I carried on walking and didn't look back, not once. As for what is dead should stay dead. But look how that turned out? If that were true you wouldn't be here…
