An unmarked grave yard.
A gust of wind,
Produced a howling note.
A rusty old gate
On hinges of gold.
Colorless hills,
Betwixt rock wall embankments.
A damaged church,
Near an upgraded track.
A dreary lit sky
A few scrawny trees.
With branches like monsters
That convulse in the breeze.
That's where he went
As he was walking yesterday.
To an abandoned grave yard
With an old church crumbling away.
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