In All The Stars Light Still Grim Poem by Mark Heathcote

God, he's a gardener of stone
Oh, Look, look at these rubies
Ammonites and gravestone—
That's where bones did loam.

They turn into diamonds
That's what he decrees,
He decrees all shall shine
When polished from his mine.

God, he's a gardener of stone
Oh, Look, look at these emeralds
Look at these dead-kings thrones
Their minion choirs still herald.

…In a distant mine for him…
In all the stars light still grim.