Repose (Pandemic Brazil)


A thousand are buried between sunrise and sunset
In rows of graves marked by a numbered cross
Each with a name, each a past to claim
In darkness it seems
In solitary dreams we drift away
Do not bury me in an unmarked grave
Among rows of the dead
Scatter my ashes skyward instead
To go where the wind carries me
The sky is white
A curtain drawn
Tonight is black
Tomorrow brings dawn

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