In the sunniest field,

in the darkest crevasse,

These stones can be found

Marking the lost.

Some gray and some cracked,

Others carved out of wood,

They say "We are here,

Please Do Not Disturb."

Those new that still gleam

Of hubris then some,

But the ones white with age know

What there is to come.

Some are homes to the spirits

Others, more earthly mice,

And the permanent tenants

Have paid their full price.

So visit them if you dare

Or if you have the gall,

Memories for a few,

But Grave warning to all.