A tragic fate ruled beneath a mournful autumn sky,
A forsaken shade stood with a tearful eye,
And a stare falling upon a distant stone,
Where memories lay carved in bone.
The winds had howled low; the trees had bent near,
Whispers were carried, fraught with fear.
A tragic fate, so cruelly spun,
The story ended where it had begun.
It was a gloomy tale of a life forever paused,
A frail and fair existence swallowed by despair’s cruel snare.
The wanderer watched as doom took its due,
Helpless as its darkness grew.
A wilted rose lay upon a grave,
A token of a life once given.
In nights that wept and days that knew despair,
Absence haunted in hollow air.
The earth was consumed, the coffin decayed,
Life was reduced to memories soon forgotten.
What solace could the grieving find,
When death had left the world behind?
The ravens summoned from their twisted trees,
Evoked echoes lingered in the bitter breeze.
Forgotten mortal fragments traced the path,
To where the silent shadows did laugh.
A chill resided in every gust of heft,
Every sigh became a dirge that spoke of death.
The sky hung heavy, draped in grey,
As if mourning the world’s decay.
In every shroud of mist that swirled,
The darkness deepened, and silence curled.
Beneath the ground, the roots entwined,
To claim a body once divine.
The clock ticked on, though spirits faded,
Their murmurs were lost where graves were laid.
And as the night unfolded its veil,
The air grew thick with a mournful wail.
Beneath the mournful autumn shade,
Two souls rested, their debts repaid.
The earth reclaimed its lost embrace,
And time forgot each sorrowed face.
In the gloom, an eerie glare burnt in all its might,
It kept flickering dimly through the night.
It wove between the gravestones’ gloom,
A ghostly waltz, a dance of doom.
At last, voices from the shadows called,
They whispered tales of love’s great fall.
The leaves rustled with each breath,
Carrying echoes of untimely death.
A tragic fate was inevitable for the eternity.
Esther Elizabeth Racah
