The Cemetery's Half-Opened Iron Gate

Under the roof of the perpetual misty nights,

there is a deserted courtyard surrounds an abandoned home.

A derelict home that has only one tiny single room.

A single chamber with teary crimson eyes looking through the smashed window of that lonely dwelling.

The courtyard located in a lonesome neighbourhood that has long been forsaken by its occupants,

who have perished under the earth's surface.

Like a carpenter's used and abused workbench, there is a crimpy face with furrows and wrinkles,

and wispy grey uncombed hair stands in the air, blatantly defying gravity.

With a terrified expression on her face, 

she glances at the empty courtyard encircled by tall walls and a half-opened iron gate.

The desolate courtyard, which hasn't heard any footfall in a long time.

Only a glimmer of enigmatic light could be seen above the vastness of the grey sky,

as the dark and misty night reigns supremely.

A doorman at this iron gate, a very sympathetic old man with a humped back and a bony face can always be seen.

Whenever her heart's awful loneliness grows and the long hours of the night seem to extend forever, 

she usually calls out to the old man and asks if he can see any traveller,

who might take her away from that terrible place.

The empathetic old man can only wave his hands at her,

hinting that nothing is visible, and alluding to the dim light in the sky,

as if trying to tell her that the dawn is drawing near.

But it has been ages, and nothing seems to be coming,

except for the foggy dreary evenings and the never-ending howling of faraway stray dogs.

Whenever she sobs bitterly, the old crippled man forces his legs to rise up and stares out the half-opened iron gate.

Raising his hands in supplication to the enigmatic pale light in the sky.

And when she yells angrily at him, demanding to know why he constantly covers the enormous sign on the iron gate,

he only answers with his usual cryptic hint to the enigmatic light in the sky.