Greenwood

This ghostly mist blankets vacant hillsides
On edge or at peace, what should I be?
The fog silhouettes loom above, guarding me

Brittle frost clings to dying grass
Creeping like moss over your stones
Like the decay that claims flesh postmortem

Ancient marks for forgotten life
Are teeth jutting out from the earth’s maw
Lost to time, worn inscriptions
You never lived at all

There is a day when we will join you
The past swallows the years
History falls into oblivion
Let the inevitable soften your fears

Caught up in our lives, the trivial struggles
This brief gap of light between two eternities
Every last creature succumbs to the mist
Beneath the vacant hillsides dwells the sea of the dead