Her End

The dirt spilled on the cover

A ricochet of sound

A gun within the silence

A bullet to the ground

.

The Pastor and his words

The people and their tears

But the memories in her name

Suppress the meaning of her years

.

It's a cold, blunt wind

It's a sharp, bleak end

And the verses in their books

Don't begin to understand

.

Quote a line of blackened scripture

Heard for ages here and past

Yet the stillness holds the empty

For the grief within is vast

.

From the infant to the man

A life of roads to roam alone

For every glory swift attained

To be marked by just a stone.