Cemetery, gray and old
Tombstones bent over and cold
I think of the buried remains,
It causes flashing, stabbing pains

Cemetery decorated with flags and crosses
Signifying our grief and losses
Beneath the ground lie our treasures,
People who shared with us sorrow and pleasures

But they are not there, in fact
Their spirits are still intact
They have left their graves
On the road to a secret life the heavenly Creator paves