Black Widow

The train encircling all around
I get older every year but
This remains the same
The solace of this place
Echoes in my ears

the final resting place of my dearly loved
I am en shadowed in black lace
Remaining here with the Spanish moss of yesteryear
The two things that remain the same

The silent stone and the hanging moss
So intricately and delicately
it exists to be
never will they cease

Long after I am gone
and become part of all that
is left of my dearly loved

Hand on bone
Ashes and ashes we become
changing, changing
to nothing
none but dust

until upon one midsummer's night
a young widow
walks across my stone

to lay with her love under the moonlight and Spanish moss
my resting place soaking in her tears
history seen repeating itself in beautiful misery