The Mistress of Word Play

Tread softly here! Walk silently beside the moss covered stones where the ancient ones do sleep.
Pray do not shout or cry too loudly! Here where the emerald giants eternally weep.
Behold the blossoms on the tombs the scent of rotten fruit and long spent flowers.
Below the hard clay earth lays the worm which the flesh devours.

Have you come to mourn the ones you lost to some disease?
Have you come to pay your respects before your lifetime flees?
Have you come to pay that homage or to taunt and to tease?
Have you come to relieve your guilt or to once more try to please?

Tread softly here!  Those who rest there in the shadows need not your intrusion.
Here the game of life has ended. Here time is surreal only our own delusion.
Those, who call this home no longer judge, no longer curse, no longer blame.
They do not need your constant vigil fueled by guilt or unfathomable shame.

Have you come to gloat and spit upon your neighbor's grave?
Have you come to see if it still hurts; are you really that brave?
Have you come to see if a visit your weary heart will stave?
Have you come to pray, bring those fresh flowers and wave?

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