Within an old, forgotten wood

A long dilapidated thing;

Through one—through all—a chorus broke,

An elegy did ring:

It groaned through pain,

It crooned with care

It reached the sky

And pierced through life.

It sung of those

Now long since dead

Their bodies rot

Their corpses stone.

I flee

I dread

I gasp

I falter

I trip

I sink

I breathe

No longer

Their picture frames,

Now cracked and smashed

A link to past

I cannot see.

Yet I still hear

That mournful song;

I gasp for life

And find it here.

Within an old, forgotten past

A long dilapidated thing;

Yet here they stand—forever lost,

Yet they are here to me.