The Shrine

By , Warrenton, VA
The shrine was such a sorrowful piece of art,
a deathplace for loved ones, an end but not a start.

For when the funeral came, in the shrine the corpse would lay,
and when the pyres went a-flame, there the shrine would stay.

And then the town would heave and sob just to reminisce,
over the death of a loved one when grief would slowly turn to bliss.

They'd finally stop and realize this death was meant to be,
but never in my wildest dreams would I think in the shrine was me.





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lilmissravenclaw said...
Feb. 19, 2010 at 4:32 pm
I like it~
 
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