#natureand decay

[sraczysko]

In the misty breath of autumn’s gloom,

Stone crosses stand as guardians of time,

Whispering prayers in a tongue of doom,

Where leaves still dance in silence sublime.

The quiet hangs heavy, a mourning song,

Voices of past in the trees concealed.

The earth beats softly, where memories throng,

And shadows of hope in the fog are revealed.