Silent Tears Poem by ashley dickerson

Fog rises from the graves,
Where bodies decaying ly,
All the souls the grim reaper saves,
can do nothing but cry,
As the spirits drift,
The sun goes away,
And while decaying bodies lift,
The moon comes out to play,
A circle they form,
As silent tears fall,
And one and all they mourn,
As their souls long lost call,
From the fading past,
They too are fading fast,
As they drank all from life`s flask