L.I. To use the model of  ‘The Old Alley’ to write descriptively about a place

The Abandoned Cemetery

The wind moans mysteriously,

Suspicious sounds surround the cemetery,

Unpredictable shadows move,

Even though there is no sunlight available.

The fog is entwined with thin leafless bush skeletons,

Myriads of graves,

Decayed and cracked,

Gifts from mourning loved ones,

Given to the deceased,

Loses its colour beneath the arctic showers.

What was once a grave surrounded by tears, sympathy and love,

Is now just like another rose in the prodigious bouquet,

Loved,

But forgotten.

All the gifts that were once a sign of remembrance,

Are now part of the thousands left before.

A brick wall containing a metal plate covered with encrusted names of those,

Who gave their lives for ours in the war,

Has now been disrespectfully covered by unfading graffiti.

The only living thing here is the mould creeping up the the graves,

Devouring their debris.

As I examine this,

I think of all the people who have suffered.

The ones now living here,

Or crying somewhere else.

Amongst all of these commemorative tombstones,

I feel like I’m inside a photo album,

Waiting to be looked at,

Remembered,

Just like the rest of the spirits here,

Resting in the cemetery.

By Oksana