I’m cold and I drive myself away
From a grave made of clay,
With yellow-coloured edges
And the earth as its lid.
I am cursed to accept myself...
A ghost with eyes and bones
Walking weak among the dead,
Longing for the past.
Like a field holds a scarecrow,
The cemetery holds me in its arms
To drive away from the sacred graves
The old women weeping at the crosses.
The priest scolds me in distress
For wandering at night through the city
With just my linen shirt
And a candle like a thread.
I am guilty of my sad nights
That weigh upon my non-existence,
For I am a ghost created by the rain
That washed my grave away.
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Author:
Vasile Serban (
Offline) - Published: March 30th, 2026 11:59
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
Offline)
Comments2
I trust there is a deep meaning here the feeling is sad and lonely and the grave or home is gone by nature. Is it tears that wash the grave away? Well done
Thank you for your kindness! Enjoy your day!
The tears shed from all the troubles of life.
You are most welcome
Enjoyed this . A fave.
Thank you! 😊
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