• O graveyard! thy graveyard!
    Your atmosphere so grim,
    Thy sight so black, thy touch so dark,
    thy soul so full of sin.
    Day by day you wither away,
    you cannot help but fade.
    You're forced to kneel to Mother Nature's wrath,
    you feel you won't be okay.
    Many think you're odd, you're pointless, or you're dull,
    but they do not understand.
    You're beautiful and have a reason to exist,
    no matter how many times you've been banned.
    You appear to be dead in any state,
    with nothing stirring inside.
    But you're full of life, beauty, and grace,
    all hidden by the thought that you've died.