In the great cemetery
in a corner reserved for that
ostentation only wealth can buy
I am struck by one massive
marble walled mausoleum.
Who lies within is of no
importance to anyone other
than the ones who lie within.
Small graves in common bulk
sections are dotted with fresh
or faded flowers waiting
to nourish the soil, or is it
the souls of those who lie beneath
watered from time to time
by the tears of recollection
shed in pain or loving memory.
Within the marbled walls
there is a silence that
only eternity offers to those
now wholly forgotten.