6. Grave Strider:
Walking through undead rivers
Graves' Tide,
Unsure where my end resides.
Seeing only blur and shadow,
Water swills and curls consuming
Names etched on stones, speeding by.
Faces never at peace
twisted in pain,
Death and life are perhaps the same.
Graves beckoning to be seen,
Unsure if sound carries upon the waves of the grave.
Souls resentful of those who bear witness,
To time's relentless, ceaseless business.
In death's last life, we all abide,
Knowing when our time has arrived.
For some,
it's a beginning,
for others, an end,
In the realm of the wicked, minds descend.
