Withered Grave by Fenny Sterenborg
my dearly beloved one
Carved in stone, many years ago.
Underneath those loving words, a resting body
far too young, left by it’s soul.
A few lonely flowers come back every year,
but it’s apparent, no living soul is tending here.
From the date, by now, forever must also be gone.
But where did she go, this yours forever,
that dearly beloved one.
Why wasn’t she buried here with you,
like decided all those years ago.
I can only guess the reasons,
but I will never know.
Forever you lie alone, awaiting,
in this grave meant for two.
As I move on, I wonder,
perhaps she did too.
March 01, 2006