Dreary skies and pouring rain,

Fog rolls in an open plane.

An old worn bench sat all alone,

Next to a grave carved out from stone.

Dead flowers laid upon the ground,

The silence here is so profound.

Ivy crawls across her grave,

Name so beautifully engraved.

Despite this solemn scenery,

It just seems serene to me;

When I think of the two of us.