Bitter Roots

Stone sculpted poetry and roses from the funeral
A memorial to death, words of admiration
The dance of leaves in early autumn haze
As with the constant wind comes the grief.

Colors won't describe nor will they provide
With flavour, nothing but grey leaving a bitter scent.

No release, enslaved by the past, see the sun go down
For the last time before darkness master my rest.

Here the caskets where spirits as captives lie
Holy ashes to be dust before materialized
Darkly veiled the heart to be forgotten
Knowing death would bring enlightenment.

Souls it wants to 'rid, souls unpure
Birthed from bitter roots.

Outside the prisoners bound to hear
The wind whirling 'round
Their presence immortally screaming
Even after their death.

Colors won't describe nor will they provide
With flavour, nothing but grey leaving a bitter scent.

No release, enslaved by the past, see the sun go down
For the last time before darkness master my rest.